


Remedy

by seaweary



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Claiming, Demon Rin, Demon Sex, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Power Play, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, light cannibalism, this is just an elaborate excuse to write about demon kings demon kinging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-10-14 10:04:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaweary/pseuds/seaweary
Summary: After Fujimoto’s death, Rin finds himself moving in with a brother he hasn’t seen in ten years and meeting some strange new people. Things get weird as the mysterious illness he's battled for years gets worse, and Rin begins to question everything he thought he knew - and who he truly is. Revelations aren't always easy, and some things have to be broken before they can be remade.





	1. A Strange Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory disclaimer that I'm way out of practice and have entirely forgotten how to write fic, ruh roh. 
> 
> This fic takes the demon thing and runs with it, so please read the tags. I'll try to keep them updated.  


“Here's your room,” Yukio said, sliding open a thin wooden door. It was empty except for furniture: bunkbed, two desks, two chairs. Worn, faded carpet in a pattern designed to hide age and stains of unknown origin that somehow still managed to seem old and stained. “I’m just down the hall.” 

Yukio’s room was also bare, almost as if his brother had just moved in, too. The only difference was that there were sheets on the bed and a couple weird-looking books on the desk. Rin wondered if he still kept more than one pair of glasses.

“There’s bedding in the closet,” Yukio continued, crossing the room. “A couple pillows and some toiletries in there, too. I didn’t know what you usually use, so I just guessed…” He trailed off, not exactly fidgeting - this new Yukio didn’t fidget - but avoiding Rin’s eyes. 

"Thanks,” Rin smiled, trying for reassuring. “I don’t really care about that stuff anyway, I’m sure it’s fine. It’s all the same in the end, right? Just soap.” 

Yukio gave a polite laugh. “Yes, I suppose so.” He turned away from Rin to open the closet. “It’s all in here. You can put your things wherever you like, it’s just us in this dorm.” 

“Pretty fancy, having this place all to ourselves,” Rin commented. More like: really fucking weird, but he didn’t care about that right now. _Come on, look at me,_ he wanted to say. It wasn’t hard to notice that his brother had avoided eye contact since the old man’s funeral. 

It had been the first time they’d seen each other in ten years, but he’d barely looked at Rin then, and still barely looked at him now. Still, he somehow managed to always keep Rin in his line of sight. His brother never faced him, but never fully turned his back either. What did he think he had to watch for? 

“It needs repairs, so we got lucky,” Yukio replied, lifting a white convenience store bag out of a drawer. “It’s old, so the parents complained when they put the students here. Electrical issues, or something like that.” 

He’d started pulling everything out of the bag and creating a neat row of bottles on the chest of drawers in the closet. Rin fought a smile despite himself - that action, at least, was familiar. Yukio always got a little too focused on order when he was uncomfortable. 

_Anything not to look at me, huh?_

Okay, no. That wasn’t fair. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, it was natural to be awkward. It was just… it was weird. He missed his brother. He missed the old man. 

God, he really missed him. His dad had been busy with work and wasn’t around as much as Rin wanted, but he’d been the one who stayed after Yukio went away to True Cross and just… never came back. Not for holidays, not for breaks. 

He’d asked if they could visit Yukio again and again, but there was always an excuse. _Maybe next time. He’s busy with exams. He decided to study in England over break, aren’t you proud?_

Sure, he was proud. Yukio was the greatest brother ever. That was just a fact. He was smart and successful and better than Rin in every way. He’d fight anyone who said otherwise. It’s just that there never seemed to be a right time to visit and tell him how proud he was to his face. Yukio had left a shy, hesitant ten-year-old with huge, scared eyes and the next time they met, he was all grown up. 

Still kind of awkward, Rin could tell, but… calmer, more himself than Rin had ever felt. There were still days when he felt strangled by his own skin, slowly suffocating in a body that felt, on his worst days, like a vise crushing him into dust. 

“No need for awkward roommate introductions, then,” Rin joked. _Like this isn’t already awkward as hell._

“That’s true,” Yukio managed another forced laugh and began folding the convenience store bag the soap had come in. Still turned away, watching Rin from the corner of his eye. That triggered it, and the words were out before he could stop them. 

“You sure you don’t want to room together?” He was speaking too fast, words tripping over each other. “I wouldn’t mind, it’d be like when we were kids - fun, right?” 

“Mm. I wish we could, but I work odd hours and I wouldn’t want to disturb you.” Yukio finally turned back around, neatly folded bag in hand. He managed to somehow face Rin without actually looking at him. “We’re adults now, anyway. It makes the most sense to have our own rooms, right?” 

Rin felt the room’s temperature rise abruptly as a sharp pain lanced through his skull. _Not again._ He pasted a smile on his face. “Sure, I was just kidding. Two guys our age need their own space.” 

It was a stupid suggestion, anyway. Yukio was all grown up, he was cool and professional and probably didn’t want to share space with a brother who had barely graduated high school and was just here because he had nowhere else to go. 

This was an obligation, remember? The old man was dead. Rin was useless. He was lucky Yukio was letting him stay here at all. 

“Exactly,” Yukio agreed, stepping around Rin and going into the hall. Paused. Turned around, an almost defiant look on his face. “I hate to say this, but I have work early tomorrow, so I need to get some rest. Will you be okay if I turn in? I don’t want to seem - I’m glad you’re here,” he stressed. 

Rin bit back the urge to ask Yukio if he was, _really_. The room grew hotter. His brother seemed unaffected, but Rin could feel sweat trickle down his neck. 

“No, no, that’s okay." He forced a laugh. “I’ll be fine, I need to get my things set up anyway.” 

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Yukio headed down the hall. There were a lot of doors between them. Rin swallowed.

“Good night, Yukio,” he called after him, trying to hold his voice steady. “I’m so glad… I missed you.” 

A beat of silence. “Me too.” 

Yukio’s door slid closed. Rin sighed and dropped his duffel on the floor. “Guess it’s just you and me, Kuro.” He should probably close his door, but some stubborn part of him refused. He would be there if Yukio wanted to talk. When he wanted to talk. 

He would, right? 

A black cat hopped out of the duffel and yawned, looking at Rin with what he could swear was a sympathetic expression. 

“Yeah, I know,” Rin said, scratching behind his ears. “It’s just… new, right?” 

The cat tilted his head at him and meowed. 

“He just needs time to adjust, it’s been a long time.” Rin examined the bunkbeds, lifting the hem of his t-shirt to wipe at the sweat on his neck. Yukio had always had the bottom bunk growing up. “He’ll come around. He just needs to get used to me.” 

The cat jumped up on the desk and then to the top bunk. “You want that one, Kuro?” 

A meow. “You’re a cat, do you even need your own bed?” Rin teased, digging around in the duffel. “You can just sleep on the floor, right?” 

That got him an indignant yowl. Rin grinned. “Okay fine, I usually take the top bunk, but I guess I can make an exception this time.” He found what he was looking for and slipped it into his pocket. “You want to stay here or come outside with me?” 

*** 

The night still held the last breath of winter, and it was late enough that no one was around. The other dorms were in walking distance, but not close - for whatever reason, their dorm was surrounded by empty space. Just one more weird thing in a long succession of weird things today.

Rin pulled a small rubber ball from his pocket and threw it as far as he could. Kuro leapt from his shoulder and bounded after it into the shadows, swallowed up by the night. The smile slipped off Rin’s face as he let out a breath and slid down to rest under a tree, closing his eyes. His gums were aching, and his head was pounding so hard that he wanted to bash it against the tree until all the pain came out. He was so hot now that his shirt was sticking to his skin, and a subtle tremor had started in his hands. 

Another episode. _Great_. Rin rested his head back against the tree, digging his nails into his thighs and taking slow, even breaths. He just had to wait it out. 

“What are you doing?”

His eyes blinked open to reveal an upside-down face far too close to his own. He yelped and scooted backward, not that there was much room to move. 

“What the hell, get away from me!” The sudden movement stabbed through his skull, and he winced and rubbed his eyes. There was a soft thump and then a finger was poking his cheek - and not gently, either.

“Look at me.” When there was no response, the finger poked harder. “Hello. I am talking to you.”

Rin forced his eyes open and slapped the hand away. The owner of the finger was crouched in front of him, watching him intently. “I said back off! What are you doing in a tree in the middle of the night, anyway?”

A shrug. “I was bored.” 

Rin made an irritated noise. “So what, you decided to climb a tree?” 

“Yes.” Some kind of candy clicked against the other man’s teeth. 

Now that he was looking at him, Rin saw there was something not quite right about his face. Something about it reminded Rin of the animals he used to play with when he was little, the weird ones with reflective eyes and too many teeth who only showed up after dark. They’d bring him trash – colorful plastic shards, dry twigs, hunks of old metal – and he’d make little forts and play kingdoms while they watched him as if he was the most fascinating thing in the world. 

Yukio had only seen them once, but they’d terrified him. He’d run to the old man even after Rin had hurriedly tried to explain it was fine, they were his friends. Sure, they looked weird, but they just wanted to play. They brought him presents. They’d never hurt Yukio. They knew Yukio was his. 

When the old man found out, though, they stopped coming. Even when Rin snuck out after dark to wait for them, they never came back.

He was torn from that line of thought by the stranger, who had leaned in and was _sniffing_ him. “What the hell?” Rin demanded, pressing back against the tree. “Did you just smell me?” 

“You smell bad,” the stranger announced, wrinkling his nose. He sniffed again. “He didn’t tell me you’d smell this bad."

Rin sighed and closed his eyes. His shirt was soaked by now and he still felt feverish, of course he smelled. “Well, thanks for that. Really appreciate the feedback. Can you leave me alone now?” 

“Why?” 

“Because my head hurts and I feel like shit,” Rin snapped. “And I just moved here for a brother I haven’t seen in years who doesn’t want anything to do with me and the only person who ever seemed to give a shit about me is dead.” Why was he telling him all this? He took a deep breath. “Just… please. Go away. Leave me alone.” 

“Hm.” Something cool brushed his forehead, taking away enough of the pain that Rin nearly moaned. What the hell? 

His eyes snapped open. The stranger was pressing a hand firmly against Rin’s forehead, a look of intense concentration on his face.

“What the hell are you doing?” There was no space left to back up, so Rin settled for shoving him away, even as some part of him mourned the loss of relief. “I told you to go away!” 

The stranger didn’t budge. “I don’t want to.” 

“Fine.” Getting to his feet was a monumental effort, but Rin managed, barely swaying. “Then I will. Enjoy your damn tree.” 

“But I’m bored,” the man complained. The candy clicked back against his teeth again, and he suddenly couldn’t fucking _stand_ it. 

Time skipped. When Rin came back to himself, he was pinning the stranger to the grass, hands clenched around thin wrists hard enough to bruise. His teeth were bared. 

He didn’t remember how he got there. The pounding in his head was so bad that he could barely think. His teeth ached worse than they ever had before. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re bored,” he snarled. “Leave me alone.” 

The man didn’t seem bothered, just sucked on the candy in his mouth. “If you want to play, just say so,” he said, and suddenly Rin was being thrown across the grass. “I don’t mind.” 

“I never said I -” Rin gasped, trying to catch his breath. Before he could get to his feet, the stranger was on him, gripping his wrists and pinning him to the ground in a weird reversal of the second before.

“No takebacks.” It almost sounded reproving, as if Rin had broken some obvious social rule. 

“I don’t want to play your shitty -” The man settled back on Rin’s hips, leaning in close to sniff at him again. He was close enough that _Rin_ could smell _him_, sugar and crushed grass and… something _else_, something that was simultaneously completely alien and achingly familiar. Before he could say another word, the stranger covered Rin's mouth with his and began to lick at his aching gums. It was so unexpected that Rin froze, just long enough for something sweet and metallic to begin to pool on his tongue, soothing the fever in his veins and muting the pounding in his skull.

It was immediately addicting. Rin went lax beneath him, forgetting that this was a total stranger who had attacked him out of nowhere in the middle of the night. He felt the pain retreat as the fever receded to bearable levels, found himself lunging up to pull the man closer and chase the taste of his mouth, desperate for relief.

It came too slowly. Rin growled and tried to bite the man's lips, too focused on relief to even question the urge - but the man pulled back, neatly evading another snap from Rin’s teeth. His lips were stained and dark. 

“Looks like you do want to play,” the man said contemplatively. He bent down again and licked at Rin’s mouth. His tongue felt… wrong, somehow, but Rin opened for him without thinking, tracing his tongue over the man’s teeth and shuddering at the relief he found there. 

The absence of pain was so heady that he had to take a second to even form a response. “Play? I… who _are_ you?” 

The man sat up, and Rin forced back a whimper at the loss of contact. “Me? Oh. I’m Amaimon,” he paused, as if trying to remember something. The candy pushed against his cheek. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Amai-what? What kind of name is that?” 

“My name.” The man’s face darkened a little, glaring at Rin. “Amaimon.” 

“I - fine, whatever.” Rin shifted. As the pain receded, his head was clearing, and with it came the uncomfortable realization that Amaimon had settled over his hips and… certain parts of both of them seemed very happy for him to be there. “I’m Rin.” 

“Okay.” Amaimon, or whoever the hell he was, leaned down again, but Rin stopped him this time with a hand to his face. 

“Hey, stop it!” 

“You’re still hurting though, right?” 

“No.” _Yes. _“I’m fine.” Fine enough that he could now recognize how completely bizarre this entire situation was.

“You’re lying,” Amaimon said, tapping a clawed (_clawed!?) _finger against Rin’s chest. He settled back against Rin’s hips, a warm, comforting weight. Some starved, hidden part of Rin that he refused to acknowledge craved it enough that he had to force himself not to yank Amaimon down and crush his lips to his.

“I’m not,” Rin insisted. “I’m fine.” No, he wasn’t. He was acting _insane_. Why was he just letting… whatever this was happen? Why didn’t he just go back to the dorm and lock the door?  And where the hell was Kuro? 

Amaimon rocked back against his hips, forcing a hiss from Rin. “You’re not a very good liar,” he observed, pulling another piece of candy from seemingly nowhere and unwrapping it between his (yes, definitely _clawed_) fingers. He tossed the wrapper carelessly to the grass, then sprang up, pulling Rin to his feet with a bruising grip. “Come on.” 

Rin stumbled, dizzy and light-headed. “Wait just a second...!” 

Kuro took that moment to reappear, bounding back into view with the ball in his mouth. He skidded to a stop several feet away from Rin, eyes wary and locked on Amaimon. 

“Hey, Kuro.” Rin attempted to yank his hand out of Amaimon’s grasp and succeeded only in further bruising his wrist for his trouble. “Let go of me!” 

He was released - so suddenly that Rin stumbled backward, off-balance. Amaimon grabbed Kuro by the scruff of his neck, ignoring the terrified yowl and the ball dropping to the grass. 

“What the hell? Let him go!” Rin yelled, lunging after Amaimon – who danced neatly out of reach, cat clutched in one hand. 

“Only if you can catch me,” the bastard said. “Otherwise…” he contemplated Kuro and opened his mouth threateningly wide. 

“Give him back!” Rin growled, leapt at Amaimon again – and missed again. He fell flat on his face, jarring his teeth in his skull so hard that he felt his eyes water. The chill that had stolen the heat from his veins was dissipating rapidly, the migraine was back, and his gums hurt worse than ever. His vision was whiting out from the pain, but he’d be damned if he let the asshole get away with the only friend he’d ever had. 

Said asshole cocked his head and looked down at him, almost seeming puzzled. “You’re not trying very hard. Don’t you care about him?” He held him out and shook the cat as if to illustrate his point. Kuro yowled and struggled in his grip. 

“Let him go!” With a scream, Rin lunged off the ground. _Fuck him. Fuck this. Fuck everything. _He was going to tear his fucking throat out. 

Amaimon avoided him just as easily as before, turning on his heel to flee across the grass, moving so fast that Rin could barely keep up. 

They raced forward, grass blurring into concrete and cobblestones as trees gave way to stone walls and tiled roofs. Everything fell away but the savage need to catch Amaimon and make him _pay. _Rin’s lungs were burning. His blood was burning. The further he ran, the more his pain increased - but he crushed it all down. 

None of that mattered. The old man might be dead, and Rin might be a deadbeat with no prospects living with a brother who hated him, but he’d be damned if he let this bastard take the one friend he’d ever had. He’d die before he let him have Kuro.

Rin was so focused on catching them that he didn’t notice the door slamming open ahead of him and the cobblestones turning to hardwood beneath his feet, buildings and night sky yielding to walls and warm light and pink carpet.

His prey stopped, too suddenly, and Rin crashed into him, going too fast to stop. They fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and Rin shrieked, clawing at the bastard’s hands. They were empty; Kuro was gone. The two grappled with each other for a wild moment, claws digging into his skin as he snapped his teeth at Amaimon - until abruptly, the frantic burst of energy ran out and Rin slumped to the ground, muscles seizing in agony. 

Amaimon might have said something, Kuro might have yowled with concern, but Rin couldn’t hear anything past the rushing in his ears and racing of his heart. The carpet felt like steel wool against his cheek. He couldn’t move. He just lay there, gasping, feeling his body shake apart around him. The pain was so bad he wanted to die. Yukio would be better off, anyway.

A minute or an eternity later, he was finally about to slip away when an irritated voice pulled him back. “Really, Amaimon, he’s filthy. Why did you bring him here?” 

“You broke him.” Amaimon sounded… annoyed? “It’s been too long.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Something blessedly cool brushed Rin’s bangs back from his forehead, and a long-fingered hand pressed down on his eyes. The pain vanished so suddenly that Rin’s heart skipped a beat. “You just overexerted him, is all. I told you not to play too hard.” 

“I wasn’t expecting him to be this weak,” Amaimon complained. The hand was prodding gently at Rin’s face now, turning his head this way and that, tracing the contours of his ears and running fingers carefully along the edges of his jaw. Even without the pain, Rin was too exhausted to resist or even open his eyes to see who it was. “We didn’t get to play at all.” 

“At all?” The voice took on a dangerous edge. “I would advise you not to lie to me, Amaimon.” 

“At all,” Amaimon insisted stubbornly. 

“He chased you halfway across the city and his lips are swollen.” The hand left Rin’s face and he heard a soft rustle of cloth as the man got to his feet. “Are you certain you want to persist with this – "

Rin couldn’t stay awake anymore and he didn’t want to try. Whatever the voice said vanished as he slid into blissful unconsciousness. 

*** 

When he woke, it was to silence. Soft morning light spilled across his chest and haloed motes of dust floated lazily in the air as a gentle breeze whispered through the open window. 

His room’s window didn’t open. Rin stiffened. He couldn’t hear any traffic, no rattle of train tracks or clatter of dishes and footsteps down the hall as priests wandered back and forth arguing about faith and works… 

No, that wasn’t right. The old man was dead. He wasn’t at the monastery anymore. He’d moved in with his long-lost twin and they were alone in a huge, empty building. There was a park outside, where he and Kuro had – Rin tensed and reached out for the cat, relaxing slightly when his hand found soft fur.

He'd met_ Amaimon_ and kissed the green bastard, which must have been temporary insanity. A fucked up game of tag with Kuro as the prize. He had run, and run, and _run_, farther than he’d ever run before, trying to get Kuro back, until he’d collapsed and couldn’t run anymore. Amaimon had been there, and… someone else, someone with magic fingers that could brush away his pain. 

Rin didn’t remember coming back to the dorm, but that wasn’t new, either. It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d woken somewhere with no memory of how he got there. He ground his teeth, fingers digging into the mattress. Kuro made a complaining little huff in his sleep and kneaded against his side.

He let out a breath and swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking down at the mattress. Still no sheets. His jeans were ripped and grass-stained. Rin plucked at his shirt, grimacing at the crustiness and stains he found there.

This was probably just a result of last night’s episode. He’d been stressed and upset with Yukio and gone for a run and somehow found his way back to the dorm afterward… in an unfamiliar city in the middle of the night. 

Sure, that was believable. He took a deep breath and got off the bed, pulling off his shirt and grabbing one of the bottles from the closet. Shower first, then Yukio. He could figure the rest of this shit out later. 

*** 

The showers weren’t hard to find. Rin turned the water as cold as it would go and stood under the spray for almost fifteen minutes before getting dressed and heading down the hall to Yukio’s room. There was a piece of notebook paper taped carefully to the door.

_Rin,_

_I was just notified that this morning’s job will take longer than they thought. It’s a tricky situation and they don’t have an end date yet, so I can’t say when I’ll be back, I’m sorry._

_The kitchen is stocked with food at the end of every week. If you need anything, please call Headmaster Mephisto Pheles at (XX) XXXX-XXXX. _


	2. Many Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is very wrong, and there's no one Rin can turn to for help. In trying to be a good brother, he runs into some familiar faces and gets into a sticky situation that may have more consequences than anyone expects.

_I was just notified that this morning’s job will take longer than they thought. It’s a tricky situation and they don’t have an end date yet, so I can’t say when I’ll be back, I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry. _

_I’m sorry. _

_I’m sorry. _

The words rang in his head like an echo from far away. Rin stared down at the note in his hand, reading it over again to see if the meaning would change. 

_I’m sorry. _

Again.

_I’m sorry. _

Again. _I’m so-_ The note crumpled in his fist. Yukio was sorry? _Sorry? _He hadn’t even been here for – they hadn’t even seen each other for more than – how **_dare _**– 

Rin screamed and punched the door, thin wood splintering around his fist and opening a jagged window in Yukio’s room. He stood there, panting, for a second, staring unseeing at the hole as his thoughts raced and his heart drummed in his chest. Rin didn’t feel the splinters tearing into his skin or the blood welling up on his knuckles, didn’t hear anything but the same rushing in his ears that always preceded an episode. He could feel his temperature rise as the pounding in his head started up again.

His breath caught. Rin unclenched his fist and slowly turned it over to stare at the blood on his hand. 

The episodes had grown more frequent as he got older. The old man had said that was due to thalmocortical… whatever he had, but they’d never come twice in 24 hours. Never even twice in a week. Sure, they were usually triggered by stressed and he’d been stressed lately… but he hadn’t had one when the old man died. He’d been upset, but hadn’t lost control like this. He didn’t even get a headache. 

His eyes finally saw the hole he’d made in Yukio’s door and he took an unsteady step back_. _What the hell had he just done? He hadn’t even been here a whole day and he was destroying Yukio’s stuff?

** _Rin? Rin!_ **

Was Yukio already – Rin turned slowly, at once elated and dreading having to explain, but it was only Kuro. He stared down at the cat for a long moment. _There was no way he had…_ “Hey, Kuro.”

To his relief, the cat just meowed. Rin laughed weakly. He must have been imagining things. Stress could do that, right? He just needed to eat or something. “Sorry to wake you up.” He carefully slid the crushed note into his pocket. “I made kind of a mess.”

Kuro glanced at the door and then back at Rin’s hand. Rin could swear he seemed concerned, but it wasn’t the first time he’d imagined Kuro had feelings like a person because he was lonely. He managed a smile, bending down to scratch the cat’s ears. “I’m fine, promise. I’ll clean this up later, okay? Looks like Yukio won’t be back for a while, anyway. You want to get something to eat?”

In answer, Kuro leapt to his shoulder and rubbed his head affectionately against Rin’s face. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go get something. The note said there’s food in the kitchen, so we may as well take advantage. Maybe I can cook!”

That brought an excited yowl as Kuro danced on Rin’s shoulder, earlier concern forgotten. 

***

The kitchen was surprisingly well-stocked, and Rin had taken his time making breakfast, using the familiar motions to get himself back under control. Doing so had taken longer than it ever had before, and it didn’t entirely banish his unreasonable fury at Yukio leaving without saying a word. Rin knew he had no right to feel that way. He was ashamed that he’d reacted like that. Didn’t understand himself for doing it. Yukio had a job, taking Rin in was a favor. Throwing a tantrum and destroying property like he hadn’t since he was in kindergarten… Rin let out a controlled breath and set the dirty dishes in the sink. 

At least Yukio hadn’t been there to see it. He had until whenever his brother came back to get himself under control. To seem normal. To somehow find a replacement for that busted door. 

He didn’t know if Yukio knew about his sickness or not. It’d started after his twin had left, and just gotten worse since. The old man might have told Yukio what was going on. He might not have. Rin hadn’t even put it in one of their infrequent letters. He didn’t need Yukio worrying about him like the old man did. 

As he’d gotten worse, his dad had pulled away from his job, working fewer and fewer hours until he finally just stopped working outside the church and stayed home. He’d laughed it off as a welcome retirement, but Rin knew better. The knowledge had rattled in his chest like a rock. Exorcism may have been some made-up church shit, but the old man had loved it and it was Rin’s fault he had to stop. 

His wrist was throbbing, and Rin realized he’d been unconsciously crushing the bruises Amaimon had left yesterday. He sighed and turned on the tap to run his bloody hand under the water. He had no idea where Yukio kept the first aid kit – or if there even was one – so he just rinsed until the blood was gone. 

***

10 minutes and a change of clothes later, Rin was back outside. Kuro had gone to do whatever Kuro did when he wasn’t with Rin, and there wasn’t much to do in the dorm, so that left just one option. He wanted to get a job, anyway. True Cross was huge, so there was probably somewhere hiring. Even if Yukio was staying rent-free - and he didn’t know that he was - he had to contribute somehow. 

In his fragmented memories of last night, it had taken seconds to get from the dorm to the commercial section of True Cross . Grass had blurred into cement so fast that his addled brain had thought he was flying.

In the bright light of morning, the journey took much longer. Rin didn’t even start to see shops until he’d been walking for fifteen minutes, and it took another ten to get to the business section. People were milling about their daily lives, walking fast, talking on phones and holding hands and walking dogs and carrying children. Rin lost himself in the crowd for a while, moving with the flow of pedestrians until his eyes started to track the fastest of them, absently fixing on tendons and skimming over bare throats. 

He shook his head and shivered, stepping into a shop before he could start panicking about more weird symptoms. He’d come here for a purpose, after all. He wasn’t smart like Yukio, but he could move inventory and stock shelves. 

The shop had no openings. Neither did the next, or the next, or the next. Every shop he entered seemed to give him a variation of the same apologetic dismissal: _Sorry, we just don’t need anyone right now. Sorry, come back in a couple months. Sorry, there just isn’t a lot of turnover here. _

Each response sent a whisper of fever back through his veins as tension crawled into his shoulders and hips. He wasn’t sure if it was the sickness or just anxiety about being unable to help Yukio after everything he was doing, but when noon came and he’d been turned away thirteen times, Rin decided to give up for the day and just explore for a while. 

His wandering took him back closer to the dorm, to the actual True Cross Academy campus. Students walked back and forth, some of them running between classes with book bags slapping against their backs and others just casually conversing on the street. There were little kids – like Yukio had been – as well as people around his own age. All of them were in uniforms and walked as if they had a purpose in life - like they knew what they were doing, how they were going to do it, and where their lives were going to go.  It reminded him of Yukio, which brought a crooked smile to Rin’s face. Even if they’d been separated, at least Yukio had been around people like him and somewhere he belonged. He was probably the best out of all of them. He always had been. 

The smile faded as Rin caught a sweet scent on the wind, eyes a little wild as he searched the square for the source. It froze him in place, so devastatingly familiar that he found himself chasing after it, walking faster and faster before he could think better of it. 

The scent led him out of the square, away from the students going about their lives and the classrooms packed with people. Before he knew it, he was in a dusty hall, stopping in front of looked to be a janitorial closet. Through the small window, he could see mops and brooms and various cleaning sprays. The handle turned easily in his grip and he cracked open the door after looking both ways down the empty hall. 

What was inside was not a janitorial closet. 

Tall, ornate pillars loomed high above him, painted in rich shades of green and red and yellow. There were dark wooden doors lining each wall as far as he could see, and the floor was an expensive-looking pink and black marble. 

_What the hell?_

Rin stepped back. Shut the door. Looked behind him at the linoleum-floored school hallway, then back at the door he’d just opened. The window showed the same thing – mops, buckets, cleaning supplies. He touched the glass – maybe it was a picture? – but it was cool and clear beneath his fingers. If it was faked, it was the best he’d ever seen. He could even smell cleaning supplies behind the door, albeit a little muffled by the earlier enticing scent. 

He opened the door again. Same hall. 

Closed it. Janitorial closet. 

Opened. Hall. 

He stepped hesitantly through the door, leaving it open behind him, and turned to look through the window. More janitorial supplies, this time from a different angle. It was clearly showing the inside of a room, but nothing about how the space was set up made sense. He tapped the window to confirm again it was glass, and the door slid closed. Before he could grab the handle, the door seemed to blur and was replaced by a red and yellow wall. 

What the hell. Rin pressed his hands against the wall and reached out where the handle _would _have been, but there was nothing. It was as smooth as any other wall, and it felt solid. He didn’t think he’d be able to punch through this one. 

Okay. This was fine. 

Rin turned away from the door that wasn’t and went down the hall slowly. All the doors were identical. Nothing about them indicated what was inside. 

With his luck this week, he’d open one and get eaten by Godzilla. 

As he continued to walk down the seemingly endless hall, Rin once again caught the scent that had led him here in the first place. It was just as irresistible as before, and turning, he saw one of the doors was cracked open, as if in invitation. Rin crept forward and peeked through it. 

It looked like a classroom. There were wooden desks, chairs, and a podium and blackboard at one end of the room. On top of the podium, facing away from him and balancing on his heels, was the cause of last night’s insanity – because of course _he_ was here. 

It was too convenient. This _asshole_… it had to be his fault somehow. Given how weird last night was, there was no way it was just coincidence that the door had disappeared, he got trapped in this weird hall, and then his new nemesis showed up. He might not be Yukio, but he wasn’t that dumb. 

“Hey!” Rin yelled. His fists clenched at his sides as his shoulders tensed, and he was thankful – for once – that Kuro wasn’t with him. “What do you think you’re doing, trapping me in here? Is this some kind of stupid game?” 

“Hm?” Amaimon turned to face him, still balancing precariously on the edge of the podium. Another damn sucker was twisting in his mouth. “Trapped you?” He tilted his head curiously. “No. How did you get in here?” 

“Stop lying!” Rin snapped, taking a step toward him. He could feel adrenaline sparking in his veins. “You’re saying I just randomly ended up in this weird room and _you _happen to be the first person I run into. There’s no way you’re not behind this!” 

Amaimon crunched down on the candy. “I’m not.” He spat out the stick, not even watching as it landed on the floor. There was a wastebasket _right there. _“How’s your head?” 

How was his head? Rin had to force himself not to spring on Amaimon right then and there. Unlike this candy-devouring bastard who threw trash on the floor, he still had some control. He could do this. “That’s none of your business.” 

Another sucker appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Amaimon began to unwrap it, rocking back on his heels and ignoring the podium’s creak of protest. “Don’t humans consider it polite to ask how other humans are doing? Nothing he’s said to do has been right,” he grumbled nonsensically. “Should I introduce myself again?” 

Rin stared. “What? I _know_ who you are,” he retorted. His head was still pounding, same as before, but he didn’t feel as feverish and out of control as he had that morning by Yukio’s door. He didn’t pause to think why that was. “Who are you talking about? Why did you bring me here?” 

Amaimon hopped off the podium, landing soundlessly on the floor. He was suddenly in front of Rin, too close and too quick, and Rin took an instinctive step back toward the still-open door. “I told you already. I didn’t.” He tapped Rin’s forehead with a claw. “Are you losing your hearing? If you are, tell me. He needs to know.” 

Rin jerked back, ignoring some alien part of him that took the prick of claws on his skin as an invitation to move closer. He gritted his teeth. “I heard you fine. You just didn’t make sense.” 

Amaimon popped the unwrapped sucker in his mouth. “Maybe brain problems, then… humans are so fragile. How have you lasted this long?” He stepped forward, closer, backing Rin toward the open door. “Maybe I should check. He said not to, but,” the candy clicked against his teeth. 

“Back off!” Rin stumbled back, instead. He was in the hallway now, Amaimon framed in the door. This was too fucking weird. Trapped or not, he wasn’t staying around for this. “Whatever, just… leave me alone!” 

Amaimon wasn’t listening. He took another step forward, then another, until Rin was pressed against a door on the opposite wall. “If you’re here, he must have let you in – so, it’s okay to check, right?” Talking to himself again, like he was making any kind of sense.

“No, it’s not okay to check – what are you doing!?” Rin attempted to duck out from under Amaimon only to be pinned to the door with bruising force. The lightweight creature he’d easily flung about the night before had vanished; this Amaimon seemed to be made of stone. 

Rin felt something slither up his leg and looked down to see thick vines crawling up from nowhere to grasp his legs and wrists. “What the hell?” The vines were soft as velvet on his skin, but they held him like iron. Throwing himself against them had no effect – he couldn’t even get far enough to ram his head into Amaimon’s. His bruised wrist fucking hurt. “Let me go!” 

“Mm,” Amaimon responded, releasing his hold on Rin’s shoulders, not that it mattered - the vines were effortlessly keeping Rin pinned in place. He leaned in so close that Rin could feel warm breath on his face. An unnaturally long tongue flicked out to lick experimentally at Rin’s nose, making him sneeze. 

There was no way he was getting out of this without help. The bastard was fucking crazy. First a magic room, now magic vines… Rin started to shout for help, only to have Amaimon grab his jaw and force his mouth open. “Mmf!” 

He struggled wildly, but he may as well have not been moving at all. Amaimon easily kept his mouth pried open with one hand while running a thumb over the tips of Rin’s teeth. “Hm.” He seemed… disappointed by whatever he found. “They’re gone.” 

The thumb scraping over Rin’s teeth vanished into Amaimon’s mouth. It reappeared bleeding – apparently, he’d bitten his own thumb. Bizarre as that behavior was, Rin couldn’t look away, struggles slowing as his vision tunneled on the bright drop of red. He felt his tongue dart out of his still-open mouth and suddenly Amaimon’s thumb was pushed past his teeth and pressing down against the back of Rin’s tongue. Rin gagged a little, senses returning with the blood out of sight - at least until the sweet, metallic liquid from the night before began to trickle down the back of his throat. 

The immediate relief was once again so overwhelming that he couldn’t help but relax in the vines’ grip, tongue helplessly chasing the thumb as it rubbed firmly against his gums. Amaimon released his mouth and Rin bit down before he could stop himself, felt skin split under his teeth and more of that soothing liquid _– blood, it was blood, what was he _**_doing_** – pool in his mouth. Felt himself swallow and suck and snap at the skin again, a sense of rightness increasing with every taste. He felt stronger, more settled, somehow more himself. Something old and dark began to simmer in his veins as he tore at Amaimon’s thumb with his teeth. 

“I knew it,” Amaimon said with obvious satisfaction. He seemed oblivious to the pain. “He was wrong, you do need-"

Enough. The vines snapped and Amaimon’s eyes went wide as Rin shoved him back, crushing him against the opposite wall. Their mouths met with a savage bite and he felt something sharp prick his bottom lip and pierce Amaimon’s tongue. 

That got him the reaction he wanted - a snapped-off snarl as Amaimon clawed at him hard enough to cut - but Rin was immovable. He licked at Amaimon’s fangs, ignoring the way they bit at his tongue and how wild the other’s eyes were. Amaimon got a nip in; Rin returned it with a little too much force, grabbing Amaimon’s hair to force his head back. 

_There it was. _This was what he’d been hunting. Rin licked a line down Amaimon’s throat, scraping punishing teeth against the delicate skin and then biting down. More blood filled his mouth and Rin sucked, the same starved part of him that had compelled him to follow the scent demanding that he take and take and _take_ until he was finally free, until he didn’t feel so weak anymore. _Break it_, something in him whispered. _Break it before it’s too late. _

Amaimon whined at the bite, but Rin wouldn’t let him go - the most he could do was claw at Rin’s back and rock his hips up to meet him, trying to force them closer. After a minute, Rin released Amaimon with a lick only to promptly fasten his mouth on another part of his throat, sucking a bruise into the skin and purring at the hissing gasps that elicited. He felt fangs scrape over an ear and something sharp dig at his scalp, but paid it no attention. 

This had to be done first. He didn’t know why and didn’t question it, just kept worrying the skin beneath his teeth and licking at the bruises he left behind. Amaimon was arching helplessly against him, whimpering as Rin hummed in the back of his throat and nipped at Amaimon’s bloody jaw. This was right. This was as things should be. His claws delicately traced the muscles clenching over Amaimon’s stomach, just barely slicing the skin. It was almost time -

A door creaked as a voice floated out into the hall. 

“I know it’s 101 stuff, Bon, but…” 

“But nothing!” An angry voice retorted. “They should have an advanced class, it’s ridiculous that we’re wasting time on this. I didn’t come here just to be held ba-“ The rant broke off in a faint chorus of gasps and squeaks. Rin’s ears twitched.

He didn’t know who they were and didn’t care. They were _interrupting_. He looked over his shoulder, lips lifting in a snarl, to see five humans clustered around an open door. Their eyes were wide, and their hearts were racing. Rin felt his own heart slow in response, eyes fixing on the jumping pulse in the smallest male’s throat. An outraged exclamation broke the silence. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? We’re in public!” 

What was _he _doing? What did they think _they_ were doing? Rin gripped Amaimon tighter, ignoring the whine of protest, and turned around to look at the group. The large one with hair like a rooster had pushed himself in front of the smallest, blocking Rin’s line of sight. The two females had ducked back in the room behind him, and a pink-haired male had his hand on the rooster’s shoulder, making soothing noises that some distant part of Rin recognized as words but didn’t have enough awareness to translate. 

All he knew was that they were interrupting and had no business here. A low rumble started in his chest and he flexed his fingers, staring them down. 

Rooster just stared back, bristling. “You going to threaten me now? Are you that invested in being a rude asshole?” 

“You’re one to talk, Bon-Bon…” The pink boy muttered from behind him. “Maybe we should all just take a breath, yeah?” 

“Not until this freak with an exhibition fetish gets out of here!” 

“Come on, Bon.” The other boy complained, but he was watching Rin with eyes that were a little too knowing behind his self-deprecating look. “Let’s just go back to class and wait for a teacher, okay?” 

A teacher… this was part of the school? That thought pierced the haze, jolting Rin back to himself so fast that he almost gasped. He released Amaimon as if burned. Amaimon slumped to the floor, eyes glazed and lips slick. He didn’t seem to notice the people across the hall, or care. 

What had he been doing? “I…” Rin’s hands went to his hair, eyes widening as he stepped back – only to trip on Amaimon’s legs and fall to the floor on top of him. Amaimon didn’t so much as grunt, just took the sudden contact as an invitation and hooked his legs over Rin’s hips, nuzzling up into his hair. Rin couldn’t even feel it, trapped between his racing thoughts and this horrible situation he’d landed in - or created? 

_What was happening to him? _

“You what?” Rooster demanded. “Decided it’d be fine to make out with some…” He glanced at Amaimon with bewildered disgust. “Random guy in the middle of a hall where anyone could see?” His eyes caught on their bloody mouths. “Or… fight? What the hell is wrong with you two? How did you even get in here?” 

“I…” Amaimon took that moment to nip at Rin’s ear and he sucked in a breath, the same haze as before starting to slow the blood in his veins even as he tried to fight against it. “Hey, quit it.” He tried to snap, but it came out more of a moan. 

“Ugh, seriously!? Get a room!” Rooster took a step toward them, and the implied threat and increased proximity pulled the bizarre, feral feeling that had been driving Rin earlier back to the surface. “This is a _school_, not a love hotel or some kind of fight club!”

“Bon…” The pink boy interjected. 

“Are you kidding me, Shima?” Rooster whirled on him. “Some random dudes start making out in the hallway like this and you’re okay with it? They shouldn’t even be here!” 

“No, but…” 

“Shut up!” Bon snapped. Another step forward and his hand had fisted in Rin’s shirt, pulling him up. Rin felt Amaimon go still behind him. “You! Get out of here before I make you regret this.” 

The pleasure and relief of earlier was gone. Rin felt his blood starting to burn in his veins and tried to shake himself free, desperate. He had to get away. This wasn’t going to go anywhere good, and he didn’t… he didn’t know what would happen. Rooster didn’t take the hint, though – he just gripped tighter and tried to shake him. 

“Let-“ Rin started, but words were coming too slowly. He knew what he needed to say but couldn’t find the words to say them with. Everything was disappearing into the same haze as before. 

A low growl had started from Amaimon and Rin grabbed him – not sure whether he was trying to hold Amaimon or himself back - but that just prompted a harder shake from the fist gripping him his shirt. “I’m not going to do shit until you agree to-“ 

“Bon, come on.” The other boy was pulling at the rooster’s arm now, voice suddenly serious. “This isn’t… I _mean_ it, we need to get out of here. Right now.”

Rooster ignored him. “And run from these guys? Give me a break.” 

Amaimon started to rise, growl rumbling louder in the still air of the hall. Rin’s vision was clouding, and he could feel the familiar rushing in his ears, helpless against what was about to drown him. _He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Just please… Someone, please…_

There was a sudden poof of pink smoke, and a strangely dressed man appeared between the two humans and Rin and Amaimon. For whatever strange reason, his arrival had mysteriously freed Rin from the rooster’s grip and the humans had been pushed back to the classroom door. “Greetings, my little ex-wires. How are we today?” 

“How are we today?! These two _freaks _somehow ended up here and started making out in the hall!” Rooster snapped. “Don’t even try to tell me they’re exorcists because they’re not wearing the uniform. How the hell did they get in here? What kind of circus are you running here?” 

“Making out, hm.” The man’s tone was a little dry. “That certainly isn’t acceptable public behavior.” 

“No shit!” Rooster growled. Rin could see the other guy had given up trying to pull him back in the room – for whatever reason, he seemed more relaxed now that the weird man had shown up. He just stood slightly behind Rooster, looking at the stranger with a sheepish expression. 

Rin felt more relaxed, too - and it wasn’t just the additional space between him and the students across the hall. The presence of the other man somehow made him feel safe, like coming home to the monastery after a fight or curling up in bed during a storm. The fever that had started to rise when the rooster jumped them was fading, and Rin could feel an almost euphoric relaxation seep into his limbs.

“I do apologize for the disturbance, Mr. Suguro.” The man said, bowing slightly. “I assure you that this will never happen again. I can only assume that it was some sort of prank by the recently graduated exorcists, as these two clearly do not belong in these halls.” He turned, and Rin felt himself pinned in place under disapproving green eyes. 

Something in him rebelled at the implied command and he started to retort before he could think better of it, but before he could say a thing, one clawed hand slapped itself over his mouth and Amaimon dragged him back into the first classroom so rapidly that they fell in a tangle of limbs to the floor. 

The movement caught the rooster’s – Suguro’s? – eye. “… Wait. Were those cla-"

“Nothing to concern yourself with, Mr. Suguro.” The man assured, stepping forward to push him gently into the classroom. “If you’ll indulge me, please join your friends for a moment while I… deal with these two.” 

“But – " The door closed on whatever the Rooster had been going to say, and the green-eyed man turned to glare coldly at the two looking up at him from the floor. 

“Amaimon,” He said pleasantly. “Did we or did we not have a discussion regarding appropriate forms of behavior when engaging with humans?” 

Amaimon bit a claw, one hand still fisted tightly in the back of Rin’s shirt. Rin could feel himself growing slightly dizzy under the man’s reptilian stare. “They interrupted us.” 

“And did we or did we not have a discussion regarding what you were and were **not **to do with Mr. Okumura? I don’t believe accosting him and causing a public scene made the list.” 

How did this guy know his name? Rin started to shake off Amaimon’s grip, strangely compelled to defend the bastard who had started this in the first place. “It wasn’t his fault, they –“ 

“Ah, Mr. Okumura.” The man inclined his head. “I do apologize for not introducing myself. My name is Mephisto Pheles, headmaster of True Cross Academy and… benefactor to the unfortunate individual who created this regrettable situation.” 

Mephisto Pheles?

Rin felt himself break out in a cold sweat. It wasn’t enough that he’d completely lost it and destroyed Yukio’s door this morning - now he’d been caught doing… whatever the hell that had been by Yukio’s boss? 

“Um…” Was it better to struggle or just wait until Amaimon let him go? Which would look worse? Which would have more of an impact on Yukio? “Nice to meet you?” He tried, deciding to try to get away from Amaimon while making it seem as natural as possible – which was to say, not possible at all. Amaimon, despite Mephisto’s icy reproach, was refusing to let him go. Rin could feel cloth tearing at his back as he tried to escape. If he kept ruining clothes like this, he soon wouldn’t have anything left. That thought had him settling angrily back against Amaimon and grabbing him back, hard. Maybe if he hurt him enough, he’d let go.

“The pleasure is mine.” The man’s voice was too smooth. “The younger Mr. Okumura mentioned you’d be arriving soon."

Rin paused in his attack on Amaimon’s hip. “Yukio did?”

Mephisto’s eyes flicked to his face, away from where they had caught on Rin’s hand digging viciously into Amaimon’s hip. “Oh, yes. He had to obtain my approval for your living situation.” 

So, he was the one responsible for them being in that isolated dorm? Did he know the old man had – did he know that they… Rin bit down all the questions and bowed his head, not releasing Amaimon. If anything, he dug in harder, fear starting to constrict around his lungs as his thoughts continued to clear and more awareness of just exactly what he had been doing caught up to him. “Thank you for your generosity toward my brother and myself.” 

A strange smile crept over the man’s face at that statement. “Of course.” He looked over Rin to Amaimon. “Release him, Amaimon.” 

Rin felt Amaimon’s fist tighten rebelliously in his shirt for a moment, but something in Mephisto’s eyes flattened at the movement and Rin was abruptly released. He stumbled to his feet. The headache was back and he still felt feverish, but it wasn’t as bad as usual – for some reason, being in the presence of both of them seemed to bring things down to bearable levels. 

He wasn’t even going to touch on how weird that was, not when he had to find a way to deal with… not when he had just almost… “Thank you, Mr. Pheles.” 

The man’s smile widened. “Please, call me Mephisto. It’s the least I can do after all the trouble Amaimon has caused you.” 

Rin hesitated, trying to think of what Yukio would want, but he didn’t have the energy anymore. He shrugged wearily. “Okay. You can call me Rin.” Amaimon had crept out from behind him and was now sitting on top of a desk, legs swinging petulantly. His eyes were locked on Mephisto as he bit at his thumbnail. 

Mephisto completely ignored the sullen glare Amaimon was sending his way. “Thank you, Rin. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, how did you happen across this place?” 

“Oh.” Rin rubbed the back of his head. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. What could he say? That there had been a weird smell and he’d just randomly decided to follow it, that he’d ended up in a janitor’s closet that turned into a hall and then been attacked by Amaimon and ended up attacking him back and started to… he flushed and Mephisto’s gaze narrowed. Amaimon kicked his heels sulkily against the desk. “I just… got lost, I guess.” 

“I see. Allow me to escort you – I wouldn’t want you to get lost again. Your brother would be very upset with me.” 

Sure he would. “I understand, thank you.” 

“Once again, entirely my pleasure.” Mephisto gestured Rin to the hall with a slight bow. “After you.” 

“Uh, thanks.” Rin slid past him, careful not to touch. It wasn’t easy – for some reason, Mephisto was taking up more than his share of the doorway. Rin could feel the kiss of body heat and smell something cool and soothing as he passed. He heard Amaimon’s heels rap again, harder this time, against the desk. 

“Of course. Amaimon,” Mephisto called, turning slightly. “Please remain here so that we can… review your behavior when I return.” 

The kicking stopped.

“It’s not his – I mean, don’t get too mad at him, okay?” Rin wasn’t sure why he was defending Amaimon or why he felt compelled to do so – the guy had attacked him, kidnapped Kuro, and then jumped him in what was apparently a school. He’d probably tricked him into coming here, too. If he got punished, he deserved it - but. He had to be fair. It wasn’t only Amaimon in the hall just now. “Please.” 

Then again, maybe it was just easier to focus on protecting Amaimon than to engage with anything that had just happened. Something was wrong with him. Something was very wrong. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mephisto said smoothly. “Now, let’s walk you back, shall we?”

*** 

The walk back to the dorm had taken far less time than the way there. Mephisto spent it all on idle chatter that Rin couldn’t have remembered a word of to save his life and then left him on the doorstep, poofing away in the same strange way he’d appeared in the hall. 

At this point, he didn’t have the energy left to question it. 

Rin stumbled inside, closing the door behind him and sliding down the wall as his hands went up to claw at his face.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. 

Whatever was happening to him, it was serious, and it was something he couldn’t understand and couldn’t predict. Maybe it was connected to his illness, but he didn’t have anyone left to ask. The old man was dead. He’d only taken Rin to see a doctor once and something about the man had bothered his dad and they didn’t go back again. Even if Rin wanted to see him, it’d been years and he couldn’t remember the doctor’s name.

He didn’t have a phone number for Yukio and didn’t know that he’d tell him about this, anyway. What was he supposed to say?

_Hi, Yukio._

_I know we haven’t seen each other or really talked in ten years. The truth is, right after you left weird things happened and I got sick. I don’t know how to explain it, but I get a lot of headaches and feel and see weird things sometimes. Or did. Now it seems to be all the time and I think I might actually be some kind of serial killer? I broke your door for no reason. I really like the taste of blood now. I might have been stalking some people on the street. I’m not really sure, I was following a _smell_ and…_

Rin felt a hysterical laugh build in his throat. Yeah, that would go over well. If Yukio had any sense at alll, he’d lock him up or throw him out or both. He dug his fingers into his scalp, trying to ground himself. He could feel tears stinging his eyes. He needed the old man. Even if this was all weird as hell, even if he really was a serial killer or some kind of freakish monster, his dad would know what to do. He always did. 

But his dad was dead, and he wasn’t coming back. Rin choked on a sob and drew his knees up to his chest. No matter how much he missed him, he wasn’t coming back. He was alone now, and it didn’t matter what he wanted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amaimon's like SAMAEL STOP COCKBLOCKING ME I S2G


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaimon gets in over his head, and Mephisto is tired of cleaning up messes. Things get dark, in a literal and metaphorical sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for demons demoning and violent (but consensual) sex.

This space of Samael’s was silent but for the chittering of humans across the hall as they tried to learn what his brother’s exorcists had to teach them. Verses, ash, holy oil - all new weapons found to be effective against Amaimon’s kingdom and kin. The instructor was going into great detail about the weapons' effects and the type of earth kin most vulnerable to them. Some of the words he used were clearly Samael's. 

It was a request for his approval, although the humans wouldn't know that. Amaimon pushed the candy he was sucking against his cheek. It would be a simple matter to imbue his lesser kin with the weakness - and Samael would owe him a favor. He pushed into the edge of the podium, ignoring the squeak of complaint from the soul trapped within. He could always undo it later if it became annoying. 

Absorbed in inscribing the weakness in his kin, Amaimon didn’t notice the intruder until he stepped onto the stone of the hall.

Even sealed, Okumura Rin had all the presence of a natural disaster. The wild rage and pure creation fire that made up his core overwhelmed even Samael’s scent, here in his own territory. Home and Father echoed through the hall, a siren’s song that had Amaimon tensing, ready to pounce - until he remembered Samael’s lecture from the night before.

_Leave Okumura Rin alone. __He’s fragile. Giving him king’s blood weakened the seal I’ve spent so much time creating, do you realize how much work I’ve had to do cleaning up after you lately_…

It had gone on for a while. Amaimon ran his tongue over his fangs, candy swirling in his mouth. Samael was wrong, anyway. It wasn’t just king’s blood weakening the seal. He wasn’t sure of the source yet, but he knew what he’d smelled on Rin's skin. It wouldn’t harm him, sealed as he was, but the same couldn't be said of the seal itself. Maybe Samael hadn’t spent enough time in Rin’s presence to notice. Maybe it was just another of his plans. 

Amaimon didn’t know that he wanted to tell him, either way; if someone else was trying to hurry the awakening along, he had no complaints.

As the Rin-maelstrom closed in on his room, Amaimon extended a thread of power and gave the door a little push, cracking it open. Humans considered it polite to greet other humans they knew, after all - and doing it this way left the choice with Rin, so he could honestly tell Samael that he hadn’t approached Rin first. If he was ignored, he would let it go. This time.

But to his delight, Rin returned the greeting, slamming the door open and yelling pitifully to announce his presence. Even his voice sounded weak. Amaimon wrinkled his nose. And that _smell. _“What do you think you’re doing, trapping me in here? Is this some kind of stupid game?” 

_An invitation? _Amaimon turned, running interested eyes over Rin’s thin body. He wasn’t looking well - skin was drawn tight around his eyes and mouth, and a gray tone ran under the normal human flush. “Trapped you? No.” He rocked back on his heels. “How did you get in here?”

Sadly, Rin didn't believe him. “You’re saying I just randomly ended up in this weird room and _you _happen to be the first person I run into? There’s no way you’re not behind this!”

He wasn’t, but that didn’t mean someone else wasn’t. Amaimon resentfully crunched down on the sucker in his mouth. “I’m not.” Candy gone, he spat the stick out, pulling another piece from his pocket.

What had Samael said he should say when humans got upset? Compliment their clothing? Grab them and then shake them? Bare his fangs?

Ah, now he remembered.

“How’s your head?” Humans liked their weaknesses to be noticed and publicly evaluated, Samael said. He’d assured Amaimon that it was a foolproof question in any human conversation.

Apparently, Samael was wrong. Rin’s face darkened and Amaimon could see muscles bunch under his shirt as if he was about to spring. He felt his tail twitch in interest from its spot around his waist. “That’s none of your business.”

He agreed with that, but… “Don’t humans consider it polite to ask how other humans are doing? Nothing he’s said to do has been right,” he muttered, unwrapping the second piece of candy. “Should I introduce myself again?”

Rin stared at him, expressions flickering across his face too fast for Amaimon to follow. "What? I _know_ who you are." His heartbeat drummed louder, eyes wild. “Why did you bring me here?”

As if Amaimon controlled time and space. This was going nowhere. He jumped from his perch and landed in front of Rin, nearly close enough to taste the hypnotizing warmth of his blood. “I told you already. I didn’t.”

He tapped a chiding claw against Rin’s forehead, drawing back when he noticed that even that gentle touch raised a dot of blood. Why did Samael insist on keeping him weak? “Are you losing your hearing?”

He’d wondered, when Rin hadn’t crossed to the room across the hall. The door was closed, but humans were loud. Since Rin still thought he was a human, he should seek them out - but he’d given no sign that he heard them or was aware of them at all. “If you are, tell me. He needs to know.”

Rin jerked away from him. “I heard you fine. You just didn’t make sense.”

Amaimon gave him a bored look and popped the candy into his mouth. “Maybe brain problems, then,” he mused. “How have you lasted this long? Maybe I should check. He said not to, but,” the candy clicked against his teeth. 

This was, once again, somehow the wrong thing to say. Instead of welcoming the interest as Samael had said all humans would, Rin backed away from him, demanding to be left alone. Amaimon could see his eyes dart to the back of the doorway and hear his heart pick up speed. Acting like prey… he really was teasing him.

At this point, continuing to ignore his advances would be rude. “If you’re here, he must have let you in - so, it’s okay to check, right?” Amaimon took an unhurried step into the hall, provoking a pathetic attempt at escape. He had hunted actual humans that were faster.

Ignoring Rin’s struggles, he reached out and very carefully pinned him to the wall, absently manifesting vines to gently restrain Rin's delicate human limbs. Letting the vines do the work for him, Amaimon brought his face close to Rin’s, flicking his tongue out to taste his skin.

Pain, fever, and a familiar, all-consuming rage crashed over him like a tidal wave. He could feel his aspect there, and Egyn’s, Astaroth’s, Samael’s, Lucifer’s… every part of Father churning restlessly in a single intoxicating vessel. Desperate for another taste, Amaimon grabbed Rin’s jaw and forced his mouth open - and was distracted immediately by blunt human teeth.

He looked closer, eyes narrowing. “They’re gone.”

However, yesterday’s events suggested there was a way to bring them back. He bit his thumb until he tasted blood and then pushed it past Rin’s lips, rubbing it firmly over his gums. A split second of shocked stillness interrupted Rin’s frenzied struggle for freedom and he began to bite ravenously at Amaimon's torn skin.

“I knew it,” Amaimon said, a little smugly. He could finally feel the razored edge of fangs. “He was wrong, you do need…”

He was cut off by a snap of vines and his back suddenly colliding with the far wall. Amaimon’s eyes widened as Rin tore savagely at his tongue and couldn’t suppress the snarl that rose up in response. He nipped back at Rin’s vicious mouth, teasing - but Rin had another goal in mind, forcing Amaimon's neck back and sinking his fangs into his throat. Amaimon whined, encouraging. His tail twisted restlessly around his waist and he clawed the other’s back, feeling Rin’s skin tear as his claws grew slick with blood.

It was going well enough that Amaimon had decided he would let Rin take him and deal with Samael’s consequences later - but then Rin froze, chest beginning to vibrate with the beginnings of a possessive growl. He'd finally noticed the humans. They were stepping out into the hall, still bleating about Samael’s exorcists.

Amaimon fought the urge to tear at Rin's throat to get his attention back on him - he didn’t know how much damage a sealed body could take - and instead pressed closer with a needy whine, tail unwinding from his waist...

\- only to be abruptly dropped to the floor, eyes glazed and lips slick with blood and saliva.

Why was he choosing to acknowledge the humans _now? _Why did it even matter that they were there? They weren’t a threat. It wouldn’t even take a thought to obliterate them, just letting his aura slip a little would be enough.

Was this another human custom Samael had taught him? Amaimon scanned his memories, ignoring the humans as they began to squawk and posture.

Nothing came to him - he couldn’t find any custom that prohibited playing in a hallway. Samael had mentioned something about how public matings were perceived this century, but the rules changed so often that Amaimon couldn’t remember if it was positive or negative. They weren’t mating yet, anyway.

His lap was suddenly full of Rin again - he had apparently fallen, doing... what? Amaimon wasn't sure how the humans had managed to knock him back, but he wasn't going to complain. He hummed and hooked his legs over Rin's hips, pulling them close and nibbling at a now slightly pointed ear.

His advances were well-received; he heard Rin moan and sensed the flames that had been doused in the fall begin to simmer again under his skin. Perhaps he would ignore the humans, after all, and they could... he paused. Rin's heart had started to race even faster than it had in the classroom earlier, and his temperature was spiking rapidly. 

The last time that had happened, Rin had collapsed in Samael’s study and badly damaged his human vessel. Amaimon gnawed his lip, thinking. He could kill the humans, but Samael had been very clear that that was a line he could not cross. With a mental sigh, Amaimon resorted to growling instead. It was a universally understood sound - one no creature in Assiah could mistake for anything but a warning.

Except for these humans, apparently. They not only ignored him, but attempted to pull Rin away - prompting his heart to further pick up speed.

If Rin’s vessel was destroyed, Samael would be actually angry, and not in the way Amaimon liked best. Protecting Rin now took priority over not killing the exorcists. He started to rise, only to be interrupted by a familiar cloud of pink smoke that pushed the humans away.

Amaimon heard Rin’s heart slow at the sight of Samael, only to pick up again as he prepared to re-enter the fray. That couldn't be permitted. If Rin damaged his vessel again while Samael was here, he wouldn't stop a lecture. Amaimon slapped a clawed hand over Rin’s facee and pulled him back into the other room, landing together in a satisfying tangle of limbs on the floor. He indulged himself in licking away the sweat beading on Rin’s ears and nape, but doing so just increased his frustration. This was the _second time _he'd been interrupted. Hearing Samael make soothing noises as he herded the humans back to their pen just irritated him even more. It was all their fault. 

Of course, Samael didn't think so. “Amaimon.” His voice was pleasant, but Amaimon knew that tone. Ordinarily, he even welcomed it - but Amaimon had never been denied so often in such a short period of time. On top of that, Samael had just locked his prey away. This was his fault now. “Did we or did we not have a discussion regarding appropriate forms of behavior when engaging with humans?” 

He bit at the thumb Rin had previously bitten and fisted a hand in the back of Rin’s shirt, pulling him closer, away from Samael. “They interrupted us.” _You interrupted us._

Something flickered in Samael’s eyes at the sullen response. “And did we or did we not have a discussion regarding what you were and were **not **to do with Mr. Okumura? I don’t believe accosting him and causing a public scene made the list.” 

If Samael had said that, Amaimon didn’t remember it. Admittedly, he’d stopped listening after the first minute of the lecture. Rather than respond, he twisted his fingers tighter in the soft cloth on Rin’s back, watching as Samael made more human noises, alternately threatening and soothing. He felt Rin grab at his hip with weak fingers and mourned the loss of claws.

More words. Amaimon started to drift, essence trailing through the wood and stone around them. A desk sprouted leaves in the back of the room.

Samael's tone sharpened almost imperceptibly, noticing the damage to his furniture just as he had known he would. Amaimon was playing in his territory, after all. “Release him, Amaimon.”

Amaimon tightened his fist rebelliously in Rin’s shirt. Samael’s eyes flattened, but Amaimon stared sulkily back at him, holding Rin a half-second longer before letting him stumble to his feet. He jumped from the floor to one of the desks that faced the door. The twigs in the back of the room began to sing to the desks of life and new growth as Samael drowned Rin in more words.

Bored, Amaimon began to kick his heels against the desk and wish for earthquakes. If only Rin wasn’t so weak. This was all so boring. When was he going to awaken, already?

The sudden crushing pressure of Samael's focus tore him away from that line of thought. “Amaimon, please remain here so that we can… review your behavior when I return.”

Oh? He stopped kicking, fixing his eyes on the other demon. To his surprise, Rin tried to protect him, saying something about how it wasn’t his fault. If he wasn't already so frustrated, Amaimon might have purred. 

That was true. It wasn't his fault. It was Samael's. 

He watched Samael gesture Rin through the door, sourly noticing that he had moved just close enough to brush Rin with his scent, covering Amaimon's mark - not that Rin would know what he was doing. The door slid shut.

***

Rather than wait for Samael, Amaimon slid _between_ and surfaced in a forest near one of his kin, a tree spirit. Some of Samael’s exorcists had surrounded it, chanting verses and preparing to douse it with the oils Samael had wanted him to bless earlier. Amaimon watched indifferently as the tree began to shake, branches splintering under the exorcists’ onslaught. Its cries rang through the surrounding earth, begging someone, anyone, to save it. 

He ordinarily wouldn’t bother to intervene. This was just one more moment in the game, the tree that died here would go on to feed many others, and he had already approved this round - but now he was bored, frustrated, and irritated with Samael. That had been the second time he had stopped him and Rin before things got interesting, and he was _still_ keeping him sealed.

Given everything he'd done to ruin Amaimon's day, breaking the rules of the game and playing with his exorcists was only fair. 

He brushed the tree lightly with his essence and felt it tremble with relief at a king having heard its cry. Rather than answer, Amaimon pushed a tiny bit of his aspect into its spirit, forcing it to evolve far past its ordinary limits. Its limbs shot up rapidly, piercing the sky as massive roots churned the soil and buried exorcists in the earth like new-planted trees. Most of them were just trapped from the hips down, but one or two were swallowed up entirely by the spirit’s wild growth.

Oops.

Amaimon released his hold on the tree, feeling it buckle without the support of his power, too weak to independently maintain its new form. Seeing the tree shudder and warp, preparing to collapse upon them, the remaining exorcists began to shriek from their positions in the earth, struggling to escape and hack at the trunk with blessed axes. He blocked every slash, catching axes in new roots and vines and twining delicate branches through the exorcists’ eyes and mouths, molding them into new shapes and tying them to the tree like ornaments. Their blood would feed the forest, and nurture the soil for the next tree to grow.

There was a snap, and suddenly everything was as it had been. The exorcists were chanting a verse, the tree was slim and weak, and Amaimon was back in the classroom, Samael at his back.

“I distinctly remember telling you to remain in this room, Amaimon.” He felt claws pierce his jaw as Samael lifted him up by the throat.

Amaimon shrugged, ignoring the pain and the way the movement deepened the punctures around Samael’s claws. His tongue flicked out to taste the blood running down his chin. “I was bored.”

The claws gripping him tightened, increasing the flow of blood down his neck, before Samael scoffed and suddenly dropped him. Amaimon landed on a desk and caught more blood with his fingers, licking them clean. “Is that also your excuse for playing with Okumura Rin?”

Amaimon carelessly kicked a heel back against the desk he was sitting on, shattering it. The desk splintered around him and collapsed to the floor, revealing a stool of mossy stone. “He’s not boring,” he said. He knew better than to push Samael, but frustration was scraping at his nerves and Rin had made him so restless that he could barely sit still.

Samael’s lips thinned at the casual destruction of his precious human furniture, and he circled behind him, a growing chill at Amaimon’s back. “Don’t be obtuse. You know why I told you why to restrain yourself this time.”

“He wanted to play,” Amaimon retorted, using the deliberately obstinate tone he knew irritated Samael like nothing else. “Maybe you should have sealed that part of him, too.”

A scoff. “You know very well that containing a gate of Gehenna in that frail human object was already a miraculous feat. Sealing his instincts as well would have shattered the sword beyond repair.”

“I don’t understand why you wanted him sealed.” Amaimon kicked at the stool defiantly, cracking the stone. “We have to be too careful this way. It’s annoying.”

“You don’t have to understand,” Samael responded. Amaimon tensed as he felt fangs glide against his nape and one clawed hand crush his wrists together. “You only have to obey. And you’re not doing very well at that lately, are you?”

Claws dragged down Amaimon’s ribs and dug into his side - the real, lethal version of what Rin had attempted to do earlier. Samael’s breath ghosted against his throat, raising goosebumps on Amaimon’s skin as shadows began to rise in the room. “I don’t ask much of you, Amaimon. When I permit your presence in my territory, it is with the understanding that you will not interfere with my plans. I don’t have the time to babysit you and Okumura Rin. As it is, I’ll be doing damage control with the exorcists and had to clean up your tree…”

Amaimon tuned the lecture out, focusing on the vicious twist of Samael’s fingers in his side. The claws were dangerously near one of his organs, and he could feel the human vessel’s physiological response, heart racing and cold sweat breaking out along his spine as he began to tremble. His tail writhed against his waist, trying to escape the shirt and force Samael closer. He couldn’t, though - in his brother’s territory, bound by his aspect, Amaimon couldn’t even tear the cloth away.

He snarled, demanding, and the sound turned into a whine as one of Samael’s claws pricked an organ. Amaimon bared his fangs, trying to make contact with his mouth where his hands and tail couldn’t.

In punishment, Samael’s claws pulled out of his side in a fresh gush of blood and began to trace languid patterns on his lower back, barely grazing his skin and winding tantalizingly close to the base of his tail without actually touching it.

Amaimon hissed, pushing up against Samael's hand. When the touch stayed agonizingly gentle, he used the words Samael was so fond of to provoke him instead. "You were wrong. He is breaking, I watched him today. He was hunting and didn’t know it. Hunting them, and hunting me.” Amaimon’s pulse jumped as the grip on his wrists turned merciless, fracturing his bones. 

Samael huffed a laugh against his neck. “Please do enlighten me regarding your arrival at that conclusion.” His fangs and tongue teased at Amaimon’s throat. “A little hunting doesn’t mean the seal is breaking. I just told you,” he pressed down, barely grazing skin and pulling a moan of frustration from Amaimon, “that I didn’t seal his instincts.”

“It’s not just king’s blood loosening the seal.” Samael ran a claw down his spine and Amaimon couldn’t help but gasp, jerking up against his fangs. His thighs trembled. _More, more - stop playing, it’s time to -_

Samael released his wrists, not that it made a difference. The shadows rising from the floor surrounded them now and had begun to swarm Amaimon, trapping him in place. “A convenient excuse, given your recent activities.” He twisted his claws deeper into Amaimon's side. Amaimon hissed, saltwater spilling from his vessel’s eyes and his tail lashing helplessly against the fabric pinning it down. “I understand the allure of his flames, but it’s been millennia since you individuated yourself from Father. I had one request, Amaimon, and you couldn’t even manage to respect it for 12 hours.”

He didn’t think Samael really did understand. He hadn’t been tormented with the promise of those flames, hadn’t tasted the wild creation fire that dwelt on Rin’s tongue, the uncontrollable destruction that simmered in his blood. Even Samael, he thought, would cave to that pressure. That presence.

Frustrated by the teasing, he bit his tongue and let his own blood fill his mouth - only to choke as he felt Samael force his head back, tearing his claws from his side and vanishing the clothes that had been pinning him.

His tail snapped back, whipping once against Samael’s stomach before the other demon caught it and forced it to the side in a punishing grip. “I do think I deserve an apology, don’t you?”

He didn’t even have time to snarl before Samael yanked him off the stool and flipped him, bending his back over the stone. Blood stained the rock from the gash in Amaimon’s side and the wounds around his throat, running just as fresh as it had been when the wounds were made.

If it wasn’t congealing, Samael really was annoyed. Amaimon whimpered prettily, trying to appease him as his tail lashed in his grip. He brought his arms up around Samael’s neck, baring his throat. 

The submissive gesture worked - Samael released his tail and buried his fangs in Amaimon’s neck. His fingers found the wound in Amaimon’s side, teasing the edges with cruel fingers as they coated themselves in his blood. The fingers withdrew, slick, and a second later Samael entered him in a single brutal thrust. 

Amaimon hissed his pleasure, feeling the slide of his blood spark inside him as their hips met. His claws tore at Samael’s back and shoulders as the rough stone rubbed his skin raw - and then Samael’s aspect expanded threateningly above them to remind Amaimon exactly what he had been toying with.

He froze instinctively at the display, paralyzed by the hint of the greater demon’s true self - only to arch back, crying out as Samael hit a spot inside him that overwhelmed Amaimon with a burst of pleasure. He shuddered, clenching around the other demon and clawing helplessly at his shoulders as he spilled onto his stomach.

Finally sated, Amaimon collapsed in a panting, bloody mess, earlier frustration forgotten. 

Samael was not as quick to forgive. He took his time, continuing to pound into Amaimon until every thrust ground torturously against over-sensitized nerves. Just as he began to whimper and squirm in protest, trying to escape, warmth filled him and Samael gave the bite on Amaimon's shoulder a final, soothing lick.

The stone vanished, releasing them both into the shadows. Amaimon curled contentedly into the comfortable darkness surrounding them, feeling time resume as his wounds began to knit together.

“You _were_ wrong, though.” He felt Samael sigh against him, preparing to respond - whether with fangs or tongue, Amaimon wasn’t sure - and continued before he could. “He stank of holy water.”


	4. Pebbles at a Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin wakes to a surprising change and speaks with an old friend. Amaimon pays the dorm a visit. Mephisto has a plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this your self-harm warning, if you didn't read the tags.

Rin woke sore and stiff, limbs aching from falling asleep in a ball on the floor. The sun was streaming through a window at the far end of the hall, too bright for evening. He must have slept there all night, worn himself out crying over the old man and panicking about what had happened the day before.

Kuro started whining at him as soon as his eyes were open, insistent, so he pried himself off the floor and went to shower. The cat stuck by him the whole time, refusing to leave even when Rin stepped into the water. He sat just out of reach of the spray, watching him with a worried expression on his face. It was a little weird.

Lost in the morning haze, it wasn’t until Rin was brushing his teeth that he noticed something wrong. He reached out to rub at the mirror, clearing a space in the fogged glass, and leaned in to look at his mouth.

He had fangs.

Yeah, he wasn’t awake yet.

Rin closed his eyes. Pinched himself. Opened his eyes again.

The fangs were still there – and they _were_ fangs, longer than any human canines he’d ever seen. He brushed a trembling finger against the tips. It stung - he looked down to a see a drop of blood on his finger.

He touched another one, then another, ignoring the way his fingers burned and started to drip onto his shirt.

What was happening to him?

Rin pinched himself again - jerking away when he felt something sharp pierce his skin. Dazed, he slowly turned his arm over to see twin cuts welling with more blood.

He looked down at his shaking fingers. His nails were blunt - but a glance in the mirror told him the fangs were still there.

Rin shoved his right hand into his mouth and bit down. 

_ **Rin! Rin! ** _

The voice was faint, coming from far away. His heart was louder; he could feel it thudding, heavy, in his chest. Rin bit harder, grinding his fangs into his hand as if doing it hard enough would somehow make them fall out.

_ **Rin! Stop it! ** _

A sharp swat of claws against his arm. _**Stop!**_ Kuro had leapt up to place his front paws on Rin’s chest and close the distance between their faces. _**Stop hurting yourself! Shiro wouldn’t want that!**_

Shiro… “Wh… Kuro?” Rin whispered. His hand fell from his mouth, bleeding steadily. It still didn’t hurt.

Kuro hopped down and pushed his head against Rin’s bitten palm, ignoring the blood dripping onto his fur. “Hey - wait!” Rin pulled his hand back and wrapped it in his shirt, away from Kuro.

_**You never listen to me!** _The cat started angrily cleaning the fingers on his other hand with a sandpaper tongue. _**Shiro told me to protect you, but you never listen! How am I supposed to protect you from yourself?**_

At this point, he’d clearly lost his mind and there was no getting it back. “I… _Shiro_ told you?”

Rin had gotten Kuro right after Yukio left. The old man had found a stray cat on the street and joked that he was getting him the puppy he’d always wanted. Kuro had been with him ever since - he’d even waited for Rin outside his school, sometimes, or for him to get out of work if it was a late shift.

He’d thought the cat just liked him, but now he was learning that his old man could somehow… speak cat and had asked Kuro to watch over him?

The cat looked up, eyes wide and hopeful. _**You can hear me? Rin! If you can hear me, say ‘Kuro is the best!’** _

“Uh… Kuro is the best?” He was suddenly hit with a face full of fur as Kuro launched himself off the counter and onto Rin’s chest, almost knocking him back. He jumped to Rin’s shoulder and began to rub himself against his neck, licking his face.

_**You can hear me! I’ve waited so long… it’s been so lonely, Rin! All the others are stupid or scary and there’s been no one to talk to.** _He paused and jumped back to the counter, so he could face Rin.

Now Kuro looked serious, Rin thought, semi-hysterically. Things were getting serious now. His heart felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest.

Kuro’s voice came to him over the rushing in his ears. _**…I thought you’d never be able to hear me, that you’d be like Shiro.**** But you’re different!** _

If his dad couldn’t hear him, how had Kuro even… Rin’s brain suddenly caught up to the last thing Kuro said.

“I’m different? What do you mean?” His voice rose a little without his meaning it to.

_**You’re special.** _Kuro began washing Rin’s blood off his fur with his paw. _**Shiro said you would need help and he wanted me to stay with you, no matter what.**_

He didn’t want to yell at Kuro, he really didn’t, but… “Special? What does that mean? Did he know that I’d have,” he gestured to his fangs, “_This_ is _special_?”

Kuro didn’t say anything for a moment, just switched paws as he continued to wash. _**I don’t know if Shiro knew**_, he said at last. _**He just said you needed a friend.**_ He jumped back onto Rin’s shoulder, rubbing his head against his face. _**Don’t worry, Rin. It’ll be okay, I promise.** _

Nothing about this was okay. Had the old man known? Did Kuro know? Why was he only finding this out now? 

If he had known, why had his dad never told him? Rin clenched his fist - and gasped, the pain finally hitting him. He doubled over, holding his hand to his chest.

_**Rin!**_ Kuro jumped on his back and he almost buckled under the weight.

“I’m okay,” he managed. “I just - let’s go to the kitchen, I need to find something to wrap my hand with.”

***

He still couldn’t find a first aid kit, and so he ran his injured hand under the water until it stopped bleeding and washed it out with some of Yukio’s bottled soap from the shower. It burned, but he almost welcomed the pain. It was grounding - his thoughts were clearer, and his heart wasn’t racing the way it was before. A kitchen towel served as a makeshift bandage, and Rin went about trying to make breakfast one-handed.

Kuro was chattering away about everything now, jumping from counter to counter to follow Rin as he cooked. It successfully distracted him from the disaster this morning, and toward the end of breakfast he could feel himself calming down, falling into an easy conversation with Kuro and feeling the tension not leave, exactly, but lessen a little. Kuro talking didn’t change anything about how he talked to Kuro, it just gave him more to respond to. The cat could be pretty funny, and it was nice to hear someone respond instead of just talk to himself all the time.

He didn’t know if this was a hallucination – and at this point if it was, he was okay with it. It felt homey enough that he almost expected to see his dad walk around a corner.

He tensed. What else had the old man been keeping from him? What else didn’t he know? 

A loud knock sounded at the door.

He froze. Rin didn’t know anyone here but Yukio - Amaimon didn’t count, and there was no way Mephisto would visit him. He glanced at Kuro, but the cat had fallen asleep and was snoring on top of the refrigerator.

Maybe it was a… door-to-door salesman or something. He started putting the food away, careful with his bandaged hand. At least it had stopped bleeding, even if it still hurt like hell.

Another knock. This one sounded like a rock hitting the door - then a bunch of rocks at once, like a hailstorm focused on Yukio’s doorstep.

What the hell? Rin started toward the door - only to suddenly remember the new problem in his mouth. He ran his tongue gingerly over his new fangs, careful to avoid the tips. He could just… keep them covered. He grabbed a damp towel off the table and tied it around the lower half of his face. This would work. If it was a door-to-door salesman, he wouldn’t come back again after seeing this. If it was some kind of asshole trying to damage Yukio’s door… Rin bared his fangs under the towel and threw the door open.

It was neither.

Amaimon was perched on the bike rack by the door. “Hello.”

Rin slammed the door in his face, locked it, and took a step back, hands knotting in his hair.

“Hello.” The voice repeated in the same monotone, carrying clearly through the door. When there was no response, a rock rattled the door again. “Hello.” Another rock. “Why are you hiding?”

He really was going to damage Yukio’s door. “Go away!” Rin yelled back. He heard Kuro yowl from the kitchen and jump to the floor. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

Another rock. “Why not?”

_Because you’re a freak and it scares me how much I don’t mind that. Because I have fucking _fangs_ now and I don’t want anyone to see them, least of all you._ “Because!”

Two rocks. “That’s not a reason.” He heard some muttering that he couldn’t quite make out through the door. “I want to…” An abnormally long pause. “Talk to you.”

Rin glared at the door. Like hell he did. “Whatever, I don’t want to talk to you. So, leave!”

That brought on a barrage of so many rocks that Rin was convinced the door would break. He couldn’t break more of Yukio’s stuff - even if this one wasn’t his fault. He angrily threw open the lock and yanked the door open.

“Quit it, asshole!”

A rock came at him, too fast to dodge, and everything went black.

*** 

It was a struggle to open his eyes, but Rin managed and blinked blearily at his surroundings. He was in the dorm’s common room, lying on a couch. Someone was rubbing his forehead too vigorously with a damp towel. Another blink. “Wha…”

“Oh. You’re awake.” The rubbing stopped. “Hello.”

That was - Rin jerked up and promptly yelped as his skull collided with what felt like another damn rock. The room swam around him for a moment, nausea rising in his throat. He rubbed at his head, pulling the towel that had been covering his face down around his neck, so he could breathe.

“Ow,” Amaimon said, in the same monotone he used for everything else. Rin glared, remembering just in time to keep his mouth mostly shut, just enough to hide his teeth. It made talking weird, but what else was he supposed to do?

“‘Ow?’ You threw a rock at my head! Who said you could come in here? I told you to get lost!”

“I didn’t think you’d get hurt by a rock,” Amaimon said sullenly. “It was just a little one.” He dropped the towel it on the floor and rocked back on the chair he was - of course - squatting on. Couldn’t he sit on anything normally?

“People get killed by rocks all the time! You’re lucky I’m not dead.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t die,” Amaimon said vaguely. He paused for a second, biting his thumb, and then looked at Rin. “I came to apologize.”

“Apologize,” Rin said flatly. “For what, throwing a rock at my head and breaking into my brother’s house?”

“No.” There was a long pause before Amaimon continued, sounding like he was reciting something for a class. “For yesterday. It was my fault.” His eyes flicked to the doorway. “Oh, and for playing with your cat.” Another pause. “The rock wasn’t my fault, though. You wouldn’t open the door.”

Rin closed his eyes. He’d woken up this morning to find he’d grown fangs overnight. He’d bitten through his hand and been pulled out of a panic attack by his cat, who had _talked_. He still hadn’t fixed Yukio’s door, and now the front door had dents in it from Amaimon’s rocks.

As if that wasn’t enough, he’d been hit with a rock hard enough to pass out, and now the asshole who had both damaged the door and hit him in the head had invited himself in and wouldn’t go away. “Okay, fine.” He ground out. “Apology accepted. Now get out.”

“Why?” 

“Because!” Rin snapped, opening his eyes. Strange greens and sickly yellows were swirling around Amaimon. Everything hurt. “I want to be alone.”

“But I want to be here,” Amaimon said, reasonably. “I’m bored.”

Sweat broke out on his forehead. He felt the sudden, vicious urge to throw Amaimon to the ground and tear at his throat with his new fangs. If he did that, Amaimon wouldn’t talk anymore. If he did that, Amaimon would stop bothering him, and maybe he could finally make sense of what was happening to him.

Rin abruptly remembered the taste of Amaimon’s blood, the addicting, cold relief of it, and wanted it so badly that saliva filled his mouth.

He slapped a shaking hand over his mouth. The colors spun faster. He desperately wanted to get up and walk away but didn’t trust himself not to spring on Amaimon if he moved even a centimeter off the couch.

“So? It’s not like we’re friends,” he mumbled through his palm.

“Why does that matter?” Genuine confusion.

“Because we hardly know each other, and you kidnapped Kuro! Why would I let someone like that in here?” It was meant to be a retort, but since his voice was muffled by his hand, it sounded too soft - but he could feel his fangs pricking at his palm and didn’t dare remove it.

It wasn’t like Amaimon really wanted to be his friend, anyway. No one ever did.

“I apologized.” His tone said he thought Rin was the one who wasn’t making sense. His eyes landed on the blood on Rin’s shirt, then flicked up to the hand covering his mouth. “What are you doing?”

“It’s none of your business!” Rin snapped. Just go away, go away… leave him alone. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

…Not even Amaimon.

_But he did,_ a voice whispered. _He did. So very, **very** much._ Rin shuddered.

Amaimon’s fingers were suddenly on his face, trying to peel back his hand. “What’s under there?” he demanded, leaning forward in the chair. Before Rin could react, Amaimon had wrenched his hand away and was staring at his tightly closed lips. “What are you hiding?”

He struggled against Amaimon’s grip. The strange, wild feeling that always seemed to arise around Amaimon was back. He knew if he moved too much more, it would take him – and now he couldn’t say anything either, not if he wanted to avoid Amaimon seeing his teeth. _Let me go! _

Amaimon ignored him. He hummed, seeming strangely pleased about something. “Open your mouth.”

He wasn’t going to open his mouth. He wasn’t. He wasn’t going to do anything Amaimon wanted. He had no right to tell him what to do. _How **dare** he try to force him _-

“Open your mouth, please.” Amaimon’s fingers moved to grip Rin’s mouth, black claws pricking against his skin. Rin tried not to think of how he’d cut his arm that morning. He pressed his lips together harder, bracing himself for a blow.

He could see Kuro in the doorway, watching them. He looked terrified but also… Rin wasn’t sure what that expression was. He’d never seen it before.

“I asked,” Amaimon muttered, seemingly to himself. His fingers brushed Rin’s skin and then gripped his jaw firmly, prying Rin’s mouth open.

Rin hissed, fangs bared and dripping with saliva. Now that the fight was lost, he couldn’t stop himself from snarling at Amaimon - who _laughed,_ genuine glee on his face. “They’re back!”

“They’re back - _you’re_ behind this? You’re the reason my teeth are…” He grunted as Amaimon landed in his lap and tried to push him off, but just like the day before, Amaimon was immovable. Rin’s breath started to thin in his lungs.

“No.” Amaimon put his face far too close to Rin’s fangs, examining them with the most interest Rin had ever seen from him. “They were coming anyway.”

“What the hell did you do? I don’t want them!” He shoved at him again. His lungs were burning. He felt like he was dying. Maybe he was. It would be a relief.

Amaimon’s face darkened and he pulled back, forcing Rin’s chin up. “What?”

“No normal person has teeth like this!” He wasn’t sure if he was shouting or sobbing. “What did you do to me?” He fisted his hands in Amaimon’s jacket, shaking him, ignoring how dizzy the motion made him. His head still hurt. “What did you do?! I thought I was just - but if you can see them, then…” His hands twisted compulsively in the maroon velvet.

“I told you. I didn’t do anything,” Amaimon said flatly, releasing Rin’s chin. “What does it matter what humans have?”

“Because I’m human, dipshit!” He was. He _was_.

Amaimon looked almost disgusted, opening his mouth to say something – only to close it, face twisting into a sour expression. He cupped a hand against Rin’s nape. Familiar cool relief began to spread from the touch, slowing Rin’s heart and soothing the burning in his lungs.

Rin started to press closer, instinctively seeking more – only to pull back, shivering. He knew this feeling. Every time it hit him, something strange and insane and usually violent happened. He couldn't - he had to stop this. 

Even knowing that, pulling himself away was the hardest thing he’d ever done. His fangs ached. “Stop doing that.”

“Why?” The hand pressed harder. Rin could feel a sting as claws scraped skin and almost moaned. “You like it.”

Rin sucked in a breath, resting his head against Amaimon’s shoulder as he fought for control. “I just don’t want it, okay?”

“Hm.” He withdrew his hand, and the pain rushed back, along with a sense of almost overwhelming weariness - but Rin could breathe again, and he no longer felt like he was dying. Something loosened in his chest.

“What’s the point of being like humans?” Amaimon muttered, almost to himself. He kept talking about humans as if he wasn’t one – and he kept hinting Rin wasn’t, either. Rin had originally just thought he was crazy, but he’d seen the claws on his fingers and the strange shape of Amaimon’s eyes and ears. He’d seen the fangs in his mouth.

He’d seen the fangs in his own mouth.

He didn’t want to think about it.

He couldn’t.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he said after a minute. It was meant for both himself and Amaimon. He was so tired.

“You’re not,” Amaimon said slowly, as if speaking to someone who didn’t understand Japanese. “I’m right here.” He shifted in Rin’s lap to prove his point.

Rin huffed, slumping forward into Amaimon’s chest. “That’s not what I mean.” His eyes were growing heavy. The emotional whiplash and whatever Amaimon had done were taking their toll. “People don’t like me. This will just make things harder.”

His next words were quiet, muffled by Amaimon’s shoulder. “I don’t want… I feel like I’m losing something.” 

“You will,” Amaimon said with strange certainty.

Whether he meant that Rin would want it, whatever it was, or that he was indeed losing a part of himself wasn’t clear. Rin didn’t want to ask. He let out a breath, closing his eyes. He was so tired that he barely heard the voice from the doorway.

_**Rin? Are you okay? **_Kuro sounded scared.

He felt Amaimon’s head turn. “Go away.”

Seconds passed. A low growl started from Amaimon and Rin burrowed into his shoulder, feeling strangely comforted by the sound. “I’m okay, Kuro.” His brain caught up. “Wait… you heard him?”

“Yes.” Amaimon started to get up. Rin whimpered. “You need to sleep.”

He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, but he was just so tired. Rin curled his fingers in his jacket. “I just got up.”

“Why does that matter?” Amaimon stood, effortlessly slipping out of Rin’s grip and rearranging his limbs until he was once more laying on the couch. “Sleep.”

Time passed. Rin was dimly aware of someone tossing a blanket over him and, at some point, Kuro purring on his chest. He felt drained and weak. His entire body ached like he had the flu and his throat burned with thirst. It was too much of a struggle to open his eyes, so he just lay there, caught in a hazy space between wakefulness and dreaming.

Dad would come soon with his terrible soup. He felt so sick… maybe he’d even read to him like when he was little.

Until then, he would sleep.

***

This was becoming a problem.

Amaimon sat on the edge of the table across from the couch, swinging his legs and staring at Rin as he slept. The cait sidhe – who had defiantly refused to leave the room, even shaking with fear – had taken the opportunity to jump up on Rin’s chest and stake a claim, purring protectively. He'd almost unmade it before remembering that Rin was possessive of the creature.

Also, there was his agreement with Samael.

He’d been permitted to return to Rin in order to determine the source of the holy water, provided he:

  1. Apologized to Rin (why?)
  2. Didn’t tell Rin what he was
  3. Didn’t destroy any more school property (he wasn’t sure if a familiar counted), and
  4. Took the blame for yesterday’s events - even though they were the humans’ fault.

It wasn’t a fair trade, but he knew better than to push Samael again so soon. It helped that his head was clearer now that he’d been relieved of some of the persistent need that continued to drive him after Rin.

So, after some requisite complaining, he’d accepted and gone to see Rin. Rin refusing to see him and then slamming the door in his face had been annoying; Amaimon had almost kicked it in, remembering just in time that he had agreed not to destroy Samael’s school.

Fortunately, throwing small rocks at the door wouldn’t destroy anything. He’d been pleased with his solution to the problem until Rin had finally answered again - and collapsed when Amaimon flicked a rock at his head.

It’d just been a little one, approximately the size of his fist. He’d meant it as punishment for shutting him out, but he hadn’t expected Rin to fall down.

He’d been so durable yesterday. How was he supposed to know he wasn’t anymore?

Still, he’d accomplished his objective: the door was open. Amaimon installed himself in a chair next to the couch and waited for Rin to wake up, ignoring the terrified hisses of the familiar.

Conscious Rin had been volatile - his true self was cracking his human skin, maddened by holy water and Amaimon’s invasion of its territory. He’d started whining about humans and it had been so annoying that Amaimon had almost told him what he was.

His tail twitched with irritation behind his shirt. Samael was taking more than full advantage of how interesting Rin was. 

A phone rang on the table beside him. The familiar raised its head from Rin’s chest.

Amaimon almost let it ring – if Samael had anything to say, he’d come to him – but Rin was starting to stir in his sleep, and he was bored.

“Rin?” A human voice, vaguely familiar. Amaimon swung his legs, not saying anything. “Rin?”

“No,” he said at last, sitting back on his hands and holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder. The familiar had curled tighter on Rin’s chest, watching him from behind its two tails. Amaimon lifted his lip over a fang and its eyes screwed shut.

“Who is this?” The voice demanded. “Where’s Rin?”

“Asleep.” Rin slept so much, he thought sourly. Even if he’d told him to, there were so many more interesting things they could be doing. What good was being allowed to play if he spent the whole time asleep? This really was an unfair trade.

“Who is this?” The voice repeated.

Amaimon didn’t answer.

“Hello? I asked who you are.” The voice sounded sharper now, trying to be threatening. Amaimon yawned. “What are you doing there with my brother?”

Brother. Oh. The human. The table creaked as Amaimon leaned back harder onto his hands and stared up at the ceiling. The phone clattered to the table. “Watching him sleep.”

“What was that?” The human seemed to be having trouble hearing him. “Did you say _watching him sleep?_ ”

He plucked the phone from the table, pleased by the shrill tone. “Yes.” The human began to produce some interesting squeaks, so he added, experimentally: “He’s sick.”

“Sick?” Even higher now. Amaimon ran his tongue over his fangs. “What did you do to him? Where’s Sir Pheles?”

He shrugged, phone slipping against his ear. The questions were getting boring. “I don’t know.”

“He promised me he would -” the voice cut off as Amaimon hung up. He tossed the phone to the floor, and then hopped off the table, heading to the couch.

“Move.”

The cait sidhe froze, digging its claws into Rin’s chest as its fur stood up along its back. Rin growled in his sleep.

Amaimon curled a finger, preparing to flick it through the wall, but the familiar escaped onto the back of the couch.

He would have preferred that it leave the room - or ideally, exit Assiah entirely - but he would accept this for now. Amaimon climbed on top of Rin, ignoring his sleepy grumble. After arranging their bodies to his satisfaction, he buried his face in Rin’s neck, luxuriating in the comforting heat of Father’s flames radiating from Rin’s core. A purr vibrated in his chest, and he felt an answering, sleepy purr under him.

Content, he let himself slip into a rare sleep.

***

He woke an indeterminate amount of time later, sensing Samael just before he appeared in the room. He scowled against Rin’s throat before begrudgingly looking up at his older brother. Rin shifted in his sleep and muttered something unintelligible.

“I see you’ve made up with Rin. Enjoying yourself, little brother?”

He _had_ been. Amaimon rubbed his cheek against Rin’s chest. He was warm and soft, relaxed in a way that he never was when he was awake. “What do you want?”

“I just received a call from a very distraught Mr. Okumura, claiming that a stranger had broken into his dorm and his brother was in danger. He demanded to be released from his mission early so that he could go and check on him. I had to promise to personally investigate the situation to calm him down.”

Oh, the human. Amaimon shrugged. “I told him Rin was asleep.”

“And was he?”

“Yes.”

He felt a familiar chill as Samael manifested an armchair to replace the chair already beside the couch. His brother peered at Rin’s sleeping face, noticing the crust of dried blood and tear stains. “Not unconscious from whatever game you decided to play now?” He seemed… pleased, but Amaimon had long given up trying to discern why Samael felt the way he did about anything.

“I put him to sleep. He was…” a pause for a moment, as he sought the words. Samael didn’t say anything. “Agitated,” he said at last, although that didn’t truly capture it. “He wants to be human.” His lip curled with disgust.

Samael brushed his fingers over Rin’s forehead. Amaimon sensed the cait sidhe tense in its place on top of the couch, but it knew better than to interrupt them. “That’s only natural, given his upbringing.”

“When will he stop?” _It’s annoying. _

Long fingers played across Rin’s jaw – who twitched, nudging against his brother’s hand. Amaimon’s claws dug into the couch, relaxing when Rin began to purr against him. “It will take some time, I expect.”

“How much time?”

A smirk. “I wouldn’t want to spoil things, little brother.” Samael withdrew his hand with a last possessive brush against Rin’s skin. “And amusing as this discussion is, it isn’t why I’m here. I have a task for you. Something to ease your seemingly inexhaustible boredom.”

“What is it?” If it was boring, he wasn’t doing it. Now that Rin had accepted him, he had more interesting things to occupy his time. Even sleeping had proven more interesting than he expected.

Samael’s smile widened over sharp teeth.

“Something you’ll enjoy.” 

***

Rin woke for the third time that day. This time, there was no pain. He didn’t even feel sick, even though it’d been so bad earlier – just safe and warm and content in a way he hadn’t been since he was a little kid. He was curled into the same couch he’d woken on earlier, and a comforting weight was pressing him against the cushions. He could hear Kuro purring above his head and the sound of low voices.

Not awake enough to understand them, Rin just lay there for a moment, unwilling to move. He could still sense the sickness lurking in his bones, but it was a distant, undemanding thing.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Warm breath kissed his skin. His eyes blinked open to see a familiar green head resting against his neck. He blinked again. “Amaimon…” he said confusedly, still too sleep drunk to process the situation.

There was a grunt of assent and a lick against his throat.

“And Mephisto,” the earlier voice said helpfully.

He looked toward the sound – and there was_ Yukio’s boss_ sitting beside the couch in a lilac armchair that certainly hadn’t been there this morning. Rin became suddenly aware that Amaimon was lying flush against him, face buried in his neck. His heart tripped, prompting Amaimon to grumble a complaint and burrow further into him.

Why couldn’t he just wake up in his pajamas in a bed, for once? He poked Amaimon's head. “What are you doing here?” It was a struggle to keep his voice level.

Amaimon propped his chin up against Rin’s chest. His face was blank as usual. “You fell asleep.”

“But why are you on top of me?” Rin asked.

Amaimon shrugged against him. “You’re warm.”

Okay. Rin started to tense. _Okay, this was…_

“Please do forgive Amaimon,” Mephisto’s smooth voice interjected, abruptly reminding Rin that they weren’t alone in the room. “He had an unusual upbringing.”

Amaimon nodded. “Yes. Very unusual.”

“Quite.” Mephisto agreed. “That said, if it makes you uncomfortable, he will get off at once. Amaimon?”

Rin’s arm moved of its own volition, trapping Amaimon against his chest. “No, it’s okay.” It tightened possessively across Amaimon’s back, and he heard his one-time nemesis make a sound that sounded strangely like one of Kuro’s purrs.

He was done trying to fight this. It seemed pointless, anyway. Amaimon didn’t always make sense and this whole thing was freaking him out, but even if he really didn’t understand why, Rin wanted him to stay. He couldn't seem to convince himself it was a bad idea.

Mephisto smiled. It looked satisfied, for some reason. “As you wish.” He leaned forward. “I don’t want to startle you, but I received a rather urgent call from your brother earlier today.”

“What?” Rin started to sit up. It wasn’t easy with Amaimon lying on his chest like dead weight. Kuro hissed. “Is Yukio okay?”

“Yes, yes, he’s quite fine,” Mephisto flapped his hand dismissively. “He was concerned about you.”

Yukio had called… _his boss_ because he was concerned about him? Wasn’t that a little weird?

But that thought was swallowed up by the spark of warmth in Rin’s chest. “He was?”

“Apparently he tried to call you a bit earlier, when you were asleep.” Mephisto held out a pink phone. Rin had noticed it yesterday on a table but had assumed one of the old students had just forgotten it. “Unfortunately, Amaimon picked up instead, and as you know, he can be rather…” He gestured vaguely.

Rin let out a breath. “Yeah.” He’d missed Yukio’s call. He’d spent the last two days thinking that Yukio didn’t even want to talk to him, and then when he called, Rin wasn’t even there. “Can I – Can I call him back?”

Mephisto shook his head. “I’m afraid not, his current project is very sensitive.” Rin’s face must have fallen, because the headmaster continued in a lighter tone. “I assured him you were well and that I would check on you personally. However, Mr. Okumura was very insistent that I have someone watch over you while he’s away.”

“No, that’s not – I’m fine,” Rin insisted. Mephisto continued as if he hadn’t heard him.

“While no existing resources can be spared, I believe I managed to find a solution that will satisfy all parties involved.” He pointed dramatically at the couch. “Amaimon will keep an eye on you while Mr. Okumura is away.”

“What?” Rin said blankly.

“Not alone, of course.” Mephisto leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “You’ll also attend classes at one of True Cross’ branch academies in the evenings. Amaimon will attend as well – I believe it will be an excellent opportunity for his social development.”

He didn’t want to go back to school, he’d barely survived the first time. Rin looked down at Amaimon, expecting support, but the asshole seemed fine with these proceedings. His eyes were even closed.

“I’m not smart enough,” Rin said. It was a weak excuse, but valid, he thought. He really wasn’t. And he hated school. He was happy that Yukio had thought of him - but he was getting the feeling this plan wasn’t Yukio’s idea.

“Not an issue,” Mephisto said easily. “You won’t be graded or have to submit any assignments. You just have to sit in class and potentially participate in a few group projects.” That still sounded like hell.

“Besides,” he leaned forward, a strange glint in his eye. “This particular academy focuses on the study of exorcism. You’d be interested in knowing more about your father, wouldn’t you?”

“You knew the old ma – Father Fujimoto?”

Mephisto smiled expansively. “Of course, we worked together many times. It was a great loss when he retired.”

The words stung. He wondered if Mephisto knew he was the reason his dad had retired. “I didn’t know exorcism was that big of a deal, I guess.”

The smile widened, sharp enough to cut. “Oh, you’d be surprised.” Mephisto rose, brushing imaginary dust off his ridiculous shorts. “Now, classes start in,” he checked his watch, “an hour.” He flicked a glance at Rin’s mussed hair and dirty face. “I expect you’ll both need to shower before then and put on the uniforms I brought, so get to it.”

Amaimon groaned – whether due to the shower or because he had to get up, Rin didn’t know. “Now, now, none of that. Oh, and Rin?”

“Yeah?” He said, a little warily.

A polka dot flu mask appeared in Mephisto’s hand.

“For your teeth.”


	5. Exorcism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The exwires meet some new transfer students. Rin reunites with old friends. Amaimon receives a long-awaited gift.

If Rin didn’t have such low self-esteem, he’d acknowledge that just barely managing to graduate high school wasn’t because he was dumb.

He wasn’t smart like Yukio, sure. Who was?

It was more that school was boring. Sitting still for so long made his skin buzz, and the characters on the blackboard and in his books tended to jump around like they were taunting him for being trapped in a chair. The teachers’ voices made him fall asleep, which made them move him to the front of the class - which made it even harder to focus because everyone who hated him was at his back and out of his line of sight.

Every time he failed a test or had to do makeup work, school felt like more of a waste of time. He’d never use the skills in the real world, he wasn’t smart enough. He wasn’t going to college. He knew he’d just end up working a dead-end job somewhere, so why was he bothering with school?

In the end, he did it for the old man and Yukio. He dragged himself through for his dad because he got stupid and embarrassing every time Rin passed a test or moved up a grade. He dragged himself through for Yukio because he’d thought it would give them something to talk about, with Yukio so far away.

He’d only managed it because he knew there was a definite endpoint. Once he was done, he was done. He’d never have to sit in a classroom again.

Or so he’d thought. Rin suppressed a cringe, eyes running over the people in front of him – the students who had encountered him and Amaimon in the hall yesterday. 

Three guys and two girls. He didn’t recognize the girls - Izumo and Paku - but that was probably a good thing. The guys, though. He knew two of them: Pink Guy, who turned out to be named Shima, and Rooster, aka Suguro. The third one, Konekomaru, he didn’t know – although he seemed familiar, somehow.

All of them were staring at him and Amaimon. None of them looked happy to see them.

Amaimon, apparently immune to social awkwardness, just popped his gum and stared back. Rin tried not to shuffle his feet. Why couldn’t Mephisto have brought him a normal flu mask?

“Please welcome…” The instructor, who looked like he should have retired long before Rin was even born, peered at a sheet of pink notebook paper in his hand. “Yamada Rin and Suzuki Ichiro, members of an old and prominent family with strong ties to True Cross. Sir Pheles is permitting them to audit your classes in gratitude for their family’s ongoing support of the Order’s initiatives.” 

“'Yamada’ and ‘Suzuki?'” Suguro asked incredulously, glaring at Rin and Amaimon. 

The instructor ignored his reaction. “Yes. Now, Mr. Yamada, Mr. Suzuki,” he looked up at them over his glasses, “Do you have anything you’d like to say to the class?” 

_No. _Rin rubbed the back of his head. It was still a little sore from earlier. “Um… please take care of us,” he said finally, with a quick bow. Amaimon blew a bubble. 

“Mr. Suzuki?” 

“No.” 

“…Very well. Please take the places Sir Pheles has assigned.” The instructor gestured to a table directly in front of him with two pink name cards resting on top. 

Of course their table was at the front. Rin looked longingly at the row of empty desks in the back before sliding into his seat at the front of the room - followed promptly by Amaimon, who closed the gap between them until they were pressed together, shoulder to hip.

Rin scooted away.

Amaimon slid after him.

Another scoot.

Amaimon slid again. They were now uncomfortably close at the end of the table.

“Stop moving.” Amaimon spoke at normal volume, not even bothering to whisper. The instructor didn’t look up - Rin wasn’t sure if he couldn’t hear them or if he was ignoring them altogether.

“Stop sitting so close to me, then!” Rin hissed.

“Why?” Amaimon began to blow a bigger pink bubble.

“Will you shut up?” Suguro exploded. 

Apparently, the instructor could hear them after all, because he leveled a reproachful look at Suguro over his bifocals. “Mr. Suguro. Please do not shout in class.”

Suguro looked like he was about to choke, but he bowed his head. “I apologize, professor.”

The old man huffed and turned to the board. “Now, let’s begin with the history of exorcism and how it has changed to adapt to modern times. Mr. Suguro, since you’re so eager to share your thoughts, please also share an overview of what we learned yesterday.”

His overview was actually… not too bad, Rin thought. He was kind of impressed by how the guy laid things out - it was easy to understand, even for someone like him. Exorcism may be made-up BS, but he made it sound cool.

Or maybe that was just his piercings and his dyed hair. Those were _awesome_.

Rin propped his chin on his hand, thinking. Why had he never gotten any? What would look good? How much did piercings hurt? If he got one, would Yukio think it was weird?

Lost in his thoughts and the old man’s droning voice, Rin began to doze off - only to be jolted out of it by a balled up scrap of paper thrown at his head. It landed on the floor beside his table. It wasn’t hard to guess who was behind it.

Rin glared at Suguro - who glared right back. Shima sighed, wearily scrawling in his notebook. Konekomaru sat up straighter, looking nervous.

Amaimon was warm against his side. The instructor droned on. Pencils scratched over paper. Rin started to nod off again - and jerked awake as a pencil snapped and someone yelped.

He turned to see Suguro glowering down at a piece of torn paper and a broken pencil in his hand. Konekomaru was slapping at his ankle as if something was slithering up his pants. A bug, maybe? Rin’s brow furrowed.

These classrooms seemed pretty clean… sure, there were the big black bugs that were always around, but they were everywhere and no one ever seemed bothered. He didn’t even notice them anymore. The instructor certainly didn’t, just kept talking and drawing on the blackboard. It was some kind of weird symbol that made his spine itch.

Rin looked away, wishing for windows. How much longer was this class? He shifted in his seat, a horrible thought occurring to him.

How many classes were there?

Konekomaru yelped again. Something about the sound drew Rin like a magnet, and he turned to see Konekomaru staring down at his hand.

Shima leaned over. “Splinters? How’d you get those, Koneko?” he asked in a loud whisper, running his hand over the top of their table. Konekomaru was biting his lip - that had to sting. For a second, Rin couldn’t look away from the pained flush on Konekomaru’s cheeks and the shine of tears in his eyes.

He licked his lips - then realized what he was doing and froze, suddenly grateful for Mephisto’s stupid flu mask. Rin tore his eyes away and focused on the instructor, but that just made his spine twinge again when he caught sight of the symbol on the board.

Another pencil snapped. One of the girls huffed with annoyance - and the instructor droned on, either oblivious or not giving a shit. Rin dug his fingers into his thighs and stared down at the table as Amaimon leaned heavily against him.

After what felt like a thousand years, the instructor finally closed his book and faced the class, pushing his spectacles up with a finger. “Thank you for your attention in today’s class. This concludes your studies for this evening. For this week’s homework, please read chapters 6 through 66 and prepare for your group project. Good night.”

Suguro was at their table before the door had even fully shut behind him. Shima and Konekomaru followed more slowly, gathering their things and standing behind Suguro like reluctant bodyguards.

“You have a problem, ‘Suzuki’?” Suguro demanded, glaring at Amaimon. Shima muttered something and rubbed his head, looking away.

Blood oozed around the splinters in Konekomaru’s hand. Rin swallowed and focused on Suguro.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you staring at me the whole class. Why are you even here? It’s obviously not to learn exorcism.”

“Bon…” Shima sighed from behind him. “The professor said he was a special case, yeah?”

An irritated look. “If they’re so special, why aren’t they getting a private class? Wouldn’t that make more sense for people of their stature?”

_Because this is all made-up bullshit, _Rin thought, annoyed. _I don’t know why Mephisto did this. Why couldn’t we just sit in the back or something?_

Amaimon blew a bubble, eyes fixed on Suguro’s face. “We want to experience an exorcist's education. What better way than to join your class?”

Suguro just sneered. “If you really want to experience it, maybe try paying attention. Did you even hear a word the professor said? He’s a well-respected exorcist, you know - you could be ‘experiencing’" - he made air quotes - "a lot.” 

“Hm.” Amaimon popped the bubble and sucked it back in. “He’s a little young.”

Shima choked off a noise, hiding his mouth behind his hand. Konekomaru looked horrified. 

“You think it’s funny to make fun of his age?” Suguro growled.

Amaimon tilted his head. “No?”

“You just said he’s young,” Konekomaru ventured bravely. “That’s a little disrespectful, isn’t it?”

“He is, though.” Amaimon swallowed his gum and leaned back on his hands, bored. “He’s not even a hundred.”

“Okay, that’s just about enough." Suguro slapped his hand on the table. “Yesterday, you and your… buddy were fucking around in the hall and Sir Pheles said you ‘clearly didn’t belong here.’ Now you’re suddenly VIPs and part of our class and making fun of the professor? What the hell is going on?”

Rin flushed a little at the reminder. Amaimon shrugged. “Ask Sir Pheles.”

Suguro reached out as if to grab Amaimon by the collar, but Rin’s hand trapped his wrist before he could even wonder at himself for doing it. “Don’t touch him.”

His eyes snapped to Rin. “Going to attack me like you tried to do yesterday?”

Rin winced, but his hand still wouldn’t release Suguro’s wrist. “I didn’t attack you,” he said, although he wasn’t sure - his memories of the day before were patchy and fragmented. “I just…” He bit his tongue and continued in what he hoped was a polite tone. “Look, I know yesterday was weird and I’m sorry.”

Apologizing was harder than he expected - something in him really, really wanted to punch Suguro for trying to touch Amaimon. Or maybe punch wasn’t the right word. Rin’s grip tightened.

Suguro scoffed and yanked his arm away. “If you don’t want any trouble, why was your friend staring at me the whole class?”

“I was bored,” Amaimon said before Rin could retort. “And your pencils kept breaking. The noise was distracting.”

“It was, actually,” Izumo’s voice joined the fray, high and condescending. “I don’t know what kind of cheap pencils you bought, but you clearly need to find a better shop. You broke at least three in ninety minutes. It’s hard to concentrate when you keep breaking things.”

“That wasn’t my fault!” He protested, rounding on her with clenched fists. “They just kept breaking for no reason, no matter what I did.”

Izumo sniffed. “Of course you’d say that. Just don’t write so hard.” Paku giggled.

“I was writing gently!”

She rolled her eyes and turned to the door, Paku on her heels. “Whatever.”

Suguro glared, shoulders tight, then muttered something and stomped after them. He paused in the doorway to throw one last jab over his shoulder, eyes on Amaimon. “I’m watching you.”

The other two followed him out, Shima giving an awkward little wave as he left.

The door slammed shut.

Rin let out a breath and looked up at the ceiling. He was still a little dizzy, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been this morning.

“This sucks. And what’s with those names… Yamada and Suzuki? Really? Why couldn’t we just use our real names?”

Amaimon shrugged. “Ask Mephisto.”

Like he’d be honest. He was starting to feel like there was something seriously off about that guy. “I’m asking you.”

Another shrug. “Maybe he didn’t want them to connect you with your brother.”

That made sense, and it hurt that it did. Rin tried not to let it show on his face, because it wasn’t fair - Yukio was probably well-known here, and everything he’d done in the past few days would just hurt his brother’s reputation. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, subdued. “Probably.” Amaimon gave him a strange look. Rin glanced away.

He got up, flexing his bandaged hand. It still hurt, but at least Mephisto had brought a real first aid kit with the uniforms earlier. Even if every single bandage and flu mask in it was polka-dotted, it was probably still good to have around.

Judging by the way things had gone over the past few days, he’d need it.

“Let’s get out of here.”

***

They were halfway back to the dorm when Rin noticed a shape on the sidewalk up ahead. It was too dark to see at first, but as he got closer, he could tell it was an animal a little bigger than Kuro. It was fluffy and round and had a long tail that dragged on the ground. The closer he got, the more he recognized. His heart started to beat faster as his pace sped up. Amaimon trailed behind him, chewing another piece of gum.

“Hey!” The thing jumped and backed up a little. The smell of iron and burnt hair hit him, worse than he remembered. Rin slowed down, holding his hands out in front of him. “Hey.”

The thing chittered a little, not backing up but not moving toward him, either. He stopped a few feet away and crouched down. “Hey, remember me?”

It quivered, considering whether or not to run. Rin sat down and crossed his legs under him. Stretched his bandaged hand out, palm up. “I remember you,” he said softly.

It was just the same as it had been when he was little - six yellow eyes that reflected the moonlight, long teeth that stuck at odd angles out of its mouth, and spiky red fur. At his words, it crept a little closer, two of its eyes rolling up to stare at Amaimon, who had stopped behind Rin.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” He wasn’t sure whether he was talking to Amaimon or the creature. Maybe both. The memory of Yukio’s reaction was suddenly so fresh in his mind that he had to stop himself from grabbing Amaimon so he couldn’t run and tell on him. “It won’t hurt you.”

Amaimon crouched down beside Rin. “I know,” he said. He didn’t reach out toward the creature, just stared it down like he did with everything else. It took another step back, chittering, and Rin pushed at Amaimon with one hand.

“Hey, you're scaring it!"

That got him a weird look, but Amaimon finally just shrugged and plopped down on the grass a couple feet away, watching them.

“Come on,” Rin coaxed, holding his hand out to the thing again. “You remember me, right? That’s why you haven’t run yet.”

It took a tentative step forward, one, and then another and another, until its head was pushing into Rin’s palm. Its fur felt like rusted wire, but its tail was wagging furiously against the sidewalk as it looked up at Rin, forked tongue lolling out of its mouth. Rin grinned.

“I knew you remembered. You left for so long, I thought…” His voice shook a little as he scratched around where the creature’s ears should be. It didn’t have any, but it seemed to like it anyway - it kept pressing up into his hand for more.

More of the creatures began to emerge from the shadows, too many to count. Some of them were as small as Kuro, others the size of a large dog, but all of their many eyes were focused on him and their long, long tails were beginning to whip rapidly against the ground. The nervous chittering of before was replaced by a strange, grinding whine, like an engine that needed oil.

They crept closer, almost hesitant, as if they weren’t sure he would remember them. But he did. He’d missed them - he hadn’t realized how much until they came back. They and Yukio had been his only friends, and Yukio left right after they did.

He hadn’t realized, too, how worried he’d been - some dark, hidden part of him insisting that it wasn’t coincidence that they disappeared after Yukio ran and told the old man. He didn’t know what he thought his dad did; he didn’t want to know.

It didn’t matter anymore, anyway. They were back now.

“Come on,” he coaxed again. “It’s okay, come here!”

That seemed to be all the sign they needed, creatures swarming him as the grating whine increased in volume. Amaimon started to get up from the grass, but Rin shook his head, hard. They weren’t going to hurt anyone. They were just happy to see him, that was all. He could feel some of them shaking as they pressed closer, ecstatic. “It’s okay, they’re my friends.”

“Huh.” Amaimon settled back down, flopping onto his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows. “Where did you meet them?”

“When I was a kid,” Rin said, voice muffled by all the fur in his face. It chafed a little, but that was okay. He was so happy they were here. “They used to come and play with me. Bring me presents.”

“Presents?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I guess they thought they were presents - it was like twigs and stuff.” Rin rubbed a hand over one of the creature’s backs. One of the smaller ones jumped on top of a big one to get closer and nudge against his face and he laughed with delight. “You couldn’t wait, huh?”

It vibrated contentedly against his hand - and then vanished as they were abruptly doused with cold water.

Amaimon had disappeared at the first sign of the spray, but Rin was soaked. The biggest creature, the one closest to him that the little one had jumped onto, was gone, too. A wisp of gray smoke curled from the sidewalk where they had been standing.

Rin stared, blinked, and shook his head, dazed. They had been there, right? He’d just been touching them. He stretched out a hand, half-expecting to feel wiry fur.

As if to confirm they weren't a hallucination, the remaining creatures began to screech so loud that he clapped his hands over his ears - only to see water arch through the air and more of them disappear into smoke. One of them pressed against him, frightened - and wailed, shriveling into nothing as the water soaking his clothes hit its fur.

The water was… Rin lifted a shaking arm, staring at his hand and expecting acid burns. But his skin was fine, just wet. It was just normal water.

Someone yelled something and he struggled to his feet, waving frantically at the creatures as he felt fever begin to rise in his veins. “Get back! Run away!” He didn’t know what was going on or why this was hurting them, but if they ran, they could -

\- but they didn’t run. They didn’t listen. Instead, his shouts seemed to drive them into action. The few that were left began to shriek and launch themselves through the air at… Suguro and his friends? What the hell?

“Hey!” _What were they doing?!_ “Hey, stop it!”

Suguro shouted something, but before Rin could parse what he said, more of the creatures disappeared. Now there was just one left, right behind him - the little one he’d seen first. It was hissing like a scared cat, fur puffed up in vicious-looking spikes.

Suguro and Shima started toward them and Rin held his hands out, trying to make them stop. “Hey, wait a second!”

It was just scared, why were they doing this? They hadn’t been hurting anyone. He felt his head begin to pound as sweat slid down his neck.

“Get down!” Suguro barked. “It’s coming right at you!”

Rin whirled around. “Just wait!” He reached down to grab the creature, to protect it somehow - the water didn’t hurt him, right? - but before he could catch it, it had flung itself, screaming, over his head at Suguro.

A golden staff knocked it from the air and it vanished in a puff of smoke. Suguro stepped forward, face set. “You’re lucky we came along when we did, Yamada.”

Yamada?

He slowly turned to look at Suguro. “…What?”

“I said, you're lucky we came along or you’d be dead right now, or worse!” Suguro snapped. “I know you and your friend think exorcism is some kind of game you can brag about to your rich parents, but this is serious! You could have been killed!”

“He’s right, you know,” Shima said, resting the staff on his shoulder. His eyes flicked to where Amaimon had been, then back to Rin. “Those things are kind of dangerous.”

Rin stared blankly back at them. “What did you do to them?”

His voice was so quiet that they didn’t hear him at first, so he repeated it. “What did you do to them?”

A glare. “Exorcised them, obviously. Did you learn nothing in class today?”

“…What?” He was sounding stupid, he knew, but... Rin looked down at the grass, where the last little wisp of smoke had been.

“You heard me.” Suguro's tone said he thought Rin really was stupid. “We exorcised them. You’re lucky you’re still alive, getting attacked by demons like that.”

Demons? What kind of mystical bullshit… “What the hell? They weren’t hurting anyone!”

Shima cleared his throat. “Uh, they were kind of swarming you.”

Konekomaru nodded from behind Shima, clutching another staff. “You could have been hurt… or killed, like Bon said.”

“I told you they weren’t hurting anyone!”

“You don’t know that!” Suguro said, irritated. “For all you know, they were about to tear you apart.”

“I told you they weren’t hurting anyone,” he repeated, suddenly empty. Time was slowing down. He felt like he was dreaming, but he could hear his heart thudding loudly in his ears.

“I told you they weren’t hurting anyone.” The words were coming faster now, but he still felt detached, somehow not himself. “I told you to stop, and you didn’t listen.” He took a step forward, swaying a little on his feet. “Why did you do that? I told you they weren't hurting anyone.”

“Is he in shock?” Konekomaru asked nervously. "He keeps saying the same thing."

“Because it’s what exorcists do!" Suguro yelled, losing his temper. He took a step toward Rin. “They save idiots who don’t know any better from things they’re better off not knowing about!” His fists were clenched. “A thank you would be nice, you know!”

The world snapped back into focus, all the rage and horror at what had just happened rushing over him with devastating force. The fever pushed viciously against his skin and his heart tripped as he grabbed Suguro with a snarl, shaking him. “A thank you?” He hissed, fangs bared behind the flu mask. “Why would I thank you for this?” He shook Suguro harder, the movement making him dizzy. “You killed them!”

“Hey, let’s all take a breath for a second, okay?” Shima had stepped forward now and was trying to pry them apart. “It seems like this was maybe a misunderstanding."

“A misunderstanding?” Suguro and Rin snapped at the same time, then glared at each other.

Rin ran his tongue over his fangs and pulled him closer, within biting distance. His surroundings began to warp, turning hazy and unfamiliar in the corner of his eye.

Suguro started struggling in his grip, but he could barely feel it. Rin could smell his sweat, taste the rage and adrenaline sparking on his skin.

“Let me go, asshole!”

It wanted to be let go?

Okay.

He twisted his hand in the human’s collar, yanked it into the air and threw it, ignoring how impossible that action was. It landed hard against a tree with a bone-cracking thud.

There. It had what it wanted.

Now, it was time for him to get what he wanted. The human would learn not to touch what was his.

He stalked toward the tree, watching as the other two humans tried to force the first one awake. The weak one with the rapid pulse was squeaking frantically. They began to pull the first human to its feet and tried to run.

So slow. He licked his lips and tore the obstructive paper mask off his face, eyes fixed on his prey.

So very, very slow.

They were his, now.

“Sorry, little brother,” a voice muttered behind him, and his prey abruptly vanished from sight.

***

The red walls of Samael’s office formed around them as Amaimon’s snap resolved and Rin leapt toward him with an enraged shriek. Amaimon just had time to throw his arms over his throat before he was knocked to the floor and through a chair that splintered around them with a crack of wood. Rin was on him before they'd even stopped rolling, snarling in rage at being denied his kill.

When fangs scraped bone, Amaimon threw him off - careful not to hit any of Samael’s furniture in the process. They had an agreement, after all.

Rin, however, was under no such restriction. Screaming with rage, he grabbed a striped armchair and hurled it at Amaimon - who ducked, letting the chair crash through the window behind him.

“Oh no,” he said. “That’s his favorite window.”

In response, the couch hurtled toward his face, and he ducked again to watch it fall after the chair. Rin howled and began to pick up everything within reach to fling at Amaimon. The remains of the other chair. Some pillows. One of Samael’s figurines from his desk. The monitor from his desk. More figurines from the walls. A signed copy of some bright-haired animated human. The coffee table. A lamp.

The lights in the room blew out as their bulbs shattered, leaving the room streaked with moonlight.

Amaimon evaded every throw as he waited for Rin to tire himself out. He was strong, yes, but he was still sealed. His stamina wasn’t infinite -

\- he was abruptly flung back as Rin slammed his head against the front of Samael’s desk hard enough to bruise his skull.

_So weak._ Amaimon sneered and braced his feet against the ground, preparing to throw him off again - but then claws -_ claws! _\- slashed down his chest, shredding the uniform Samael had gotten for him.

He laughed with delight and lunged up to lock his teeth around Rin’s throat - only to be thrown to the ground so hard he felt a rib fracture. Hypnotizing blue eyes caught his own as Rin straddled him, snarling ferociously. His fangs had elongated, reflecting how close the seal was to breaking.

How much longer would they get?

Experimentally, he snarled back. Rin snapped at his face, and his fangs lengthened more. Amaimon grinned, arching up to lick against Rin’s fangs, and was slammed back down again, hand against his throat. He raked his own claws down Rin’s back, tearing at his shirt and reveling in warm blood and the rising scent of flames in the room. Rin bit savagely at Amaimon’s shoulder, one hand still pinning his throat while the other clawed at him through his pants.

Feeling helpful, Amaimon vanished his clothes - and after a second’s thought, Rin’s, letting him spring free against his belly. Rin twitched at the movement and ground his fangs deeper. The crushing pressure on his throat increased with Rin’s growls and Amaimon began to choke, spots dancing in his vision. Not wanting things to end early this time, he slid a hand between them and gripped Rin firmly.

Rin released his fangs with a snarl and yanked him off the floor and onto his lap, entering him in a single thrust. Amaimon hissed at the burn, feeling his rim tear - but the half-demon didn’t pause, just began to pound mercilessly up into him. He purred, encouraging - and the rhythm lasted less than a minute before abruptly stuttering to a stop as Rin came with a gasp, claws gouging his skin. He hissed, clenching around Rin as heat filled him.

That was fast. He scowled into Rin's skin. He was still so very new.

Amaimon let out a breath and rutted against him, chasing his own release. Rin purred sleepily and began to mouth at his throat.

That wasn’t what he wanted. He snarled viciously against Rin’s cheek and immediately got a response - Rin snarled back and snapped at him, still too young to resist the defiance. He sank his teeth into Amaimon’s throat, fangs scraping dangerously close to the vein. It was a reminder of who was in charge - not that he could currently enforce it - and exactly what he needed.

Amaimon whined and ground against him, pushing his throat harder into Rin’s fangs before finally shuddering and going slack. Rin released him with one last growl and licked across his nose, followed by a whine of frustration and the sting of claws as he felt Amaimon’s tail coil around his leg.

Even if the human part of Rin didn’t, the demon knew what he was missing, and he wasn’t happy about it. There were a few more disgruntled snarls and whines before Rin finally settled down, curling protectively around Amaimon. He wondered if the claws would still be there tomorrow.

He hoped so.

***

His office stank of blood and sex and sweat, the once pristine room a mess of shredded cushions, shattered glass, and splintered furniture. His monitor was facedown on the carpet, shattered. His window was broken. All of his meticulously selected figurines and merchandise were scattered - some of them crushed - in the debris of the remains of his office.

Only his desk remained in place - and there, curled together against the brown wood, were the two miscreants to blame for this. His eye twitched.

Both seemed to be sleeping, but as he approached, one of them raised his head - and he felt his irritation dissipate at the sight.

“There you are,” he purred, crouching down. The demon curled possessively around Amaimon stared back at him, unblinking, from luminous blue eyes. Every bruise, cut, and scrape acquired over the last two days was gone. His pale, blood-stained skin gleamed in the moonlight spilling from the window. “Hello.”

Eyes still locked on Mephisto, Rin licked Amaimon’s long, pointed ear and bit down, prompting a needy whine from the dozing earth king. A chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t take him from you.” 

_ At least, not right now. _

Rin licked at the blood welling from Amaimon’s ear and yawned, revealing long, white fangs. Mephisto laughed. “I did mean that, you know. I’m too interested in how this situation came to pass to bother with Amaimon at the moment. You were supposed to attend class and go straight home, how exactly did this happen?”

“Your humans performed an exorcism,” a sleepy voice rose from the floor, startling a low growl from Rin. “He saw it and didn’t understand.”

“Oh?” Mephisto kept his eyes on Rin, who had started mouthing Amaimon’s ear. “Why is that?”

“The humans interrupted,” Amaimon replied, voice a little breathy as he nosed up against Rin’s jaw. _Again_, he didn’t say, and Mephisto sneered. “He was playing, but they thought he was in danger. He was upset.”

“I see.” A beat. “That doesn’t explain how he came to be in my office.” How he came to _destroy_ his office. 

“The seal started degrading again and he was going to kill your humans, so I brought him here.”

“To my office.” As if there weren’t dozens of other places better-suited to containing an enraged demon. Amaimon was annoyed with him, he knew; recently, he had even savored it, but now the tantrums were escalating to inconvenient levels and he’d have to contain him sooner rather than later.

Apparently, last night’s reminder hadn’t been enough.

“Yes.” Rin bit down harder, and Amaimon moaned.

“Hm. Why not the large, empty, isolated dormitory I established solely for this purpose?” Mephisto started to get to his feet, Rin’s head snapping toward him with a snarl.

“I panicked,” Amaimon said gravely - or as gravely as he could when he was shamelessly pressing up into Rin with needy whines. The whines, however, fell on deaf ears - even sealed, Rin knew where the power in the room was. His eyes wouldn’t leave Mephisto, even with Amaimon provocatively nipping at his throat. “He was upset and destroyed your office. I’m sorry, brother.”

Mephisto smiled at Rin, baring his teeth. “Of course you are.”

It was too much, as he’d known it would be. Rin sprang from Amaimon’s embrace and tackled Mephisto to the floor, snarling into his face. It was just a threat - he didn’t attack, not yet.

He really was lovely like this, Mephisto thought. He reached a hand up to brush against Rin’s cheek, prompting another snarl of warning. Amaimon growled in frustration, claws scratching against the floor.

Technically, he hadn’t broken the terms of their latest agreement - but he was unusually dedicated, lately, to escaping those same terms. His infatuation with Rin was making him even more impulsive and difficult to control than usual.

A reminder was indeed needed, but later. It was Rin who needed one now. Mephisto pulled him close and rolled them over, effortlessly pinning the snarling half-demon to the floor.

It was pathetically easy. He had no flames, after all - just fangs, claws, and slightly greater than human strength. The irritation at the state of his office flooded back.

Really, the mess was ridiculous. Amaimon could have controlled him far before he got to this point. He didn’t even have a tail yet.

Still pinning Rin’s wrists, Mephisto bent his head to run his fangs gently over his throat. He didn’t bite down - he was still sealed, after all - but teased with lips and tongue until Rin’s snarl turned into a purring whine and and he went lax beneath him. Another growl from Amaimon.

Mephisto’s lips curved against Rin’s neck. “Something wrong, little brother?”

Rin tensed under him, pushing his throat demandingly up against his fangs with a low snarl. He obliged, kissing the corners and the bow of his lips until Rin opened for him.

He really did taste like Father. Mephisto indulged himself in Rin’s mouth, savoring the taste of Father’s power restrained beneath his own seal. He could taste it rapidly degrading beneath those relentless flames - it wouldn’t hold much longer - but _oh_, how it was holding him now. He sucked in a sharp breath.

His next nip held a little too much force, and Rin whimpered.

Amaimon, apparently dissatisfied with complaining from a distance, had come to crouch by his head. Mephisto ignored him, slipping a hand down to stroke Rin’s cock and roll a thumb over its head, tracing the slit. Rin bit up into his mouth with a whine.

Impatient as always, Amaimon reached down to join in.

“I wouldn’t, Amaimon,” he said against Rin’s mouth. His brother froze - and sat back, sulking. Mephisto’s eyes flicked to the wreck of his office, still maintaining a steady rhythm, and then back to Amaimon.

The earth king looked away and began to casually lick his fangs, staying just within the limits of permissible insolence.

Mephisto scoffed against Rin's throat. His little brother knew all too well where the lines were.

He bent to kiss Rin again, chasing the fire on his tongue. Rin began to pant and whine beneath him, hips stuttering as he finally arched up with a gasp and went limp. He gave him a final lick and brushed the half-demon’s hair away from his half-closed eyes before getting to his feet.

“Amaimon.” He felt him stiffen with anticipation, expecting a well-deserved punishment, no doubt. Mephisto smiled into the darkness. “Try not to let him destroy my office again.” It wasn’t a request.

Amaimon nodded. He was hard - still or again, he didn’t know. Rin wouldn’t know how to satiate him, yet. “Yes, brother.”

“Thank you.” He snapped his fingers, returning the office to its previous state. Rin whined as the previously shattered bulbs were restored and light hit his over-sensitive eyes. “Make sure he gets back to the dorm tonight, please.” Mephisto flicked the lights off and looked down at Amaimon. “That request isn’t open to interpretation.”

“Yes, Samael.” He’d used his name - slightly more impatient now. Amaimon shifted expectantly on the floor.

He smirked. “Good night, little brother.” Amaimon's face darkened - but before he could respond, Mephisto snapped his fingers and vanished in a cloud of smoke.

All things in their own time.


	6. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin remembers someone from his childhood and struggles with recent events. Amaimon just wants breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by the Childhood Adventures of Remedy!Rin and Yukio: All Other Antichrists Are Posers Association.

On their first day of kindergarten, a kid had pushed Yukio while Rin was on the other side of the playground.

He’d seen it happen and run over so fast he’d fallen and skinned his knees. He couldn’t remember the words he’d used or if he’d said anything at all, but he remembered the other kid’s expression as he got up in his face.

It said, _I’m scared of you. I won’t do it again. _

He did it again.

The second time, Rin had almost punched him, but he’d remembered, just in time, that his dad didn’t want him to fight. His dad had told him to use his words if another kid bothered Yukio. Or, if he couldn’t find the words - because words were hard when he was angry - he should use his legs to go get a teacher or walk away.

Even now, Rin could remember how agonizingly wrong both options had felt. Telling him to stop at “no” felt like the old man was saying he shouldn’t rub his eyes if they got itchy or shouldn’t slap a bug that landed on his wrist.

But at three, he didn’t know how to tell his dad that. He hadn’t known the words to explain that it felt wrong. He’d tried; his dad listened, and then repeated what he said the first time.

No matter what he’d said, his dad just repeated himself over and over.

No, you shouldn’t hit others.

If you're upset, use your words or go tell a teacher.

Fighting is bad.

Even if it's for Yukio, you can't hit people.

He’d gotten so frustrated at being unable to make his dad understand that he’d screamed and bitten him – and then Yukio had come in and seen the blood on Shiro’s arm and cried, which made Rin cry, which made his dad laugh and hug them both.

He hadn't wanted Yukio to cry again, so he’d tearfully promised to use his words - and his dad’s proud smile felt right enough that it almost balanced out the wrongness that still itched at him.

So, the next time it happened, Rin went to a teacher.

Clutching Yukio’s hand, he told her what the other kid had done. He told her, a little uncertainly, that his dad had told him to use his words.

She had smiled and said he did the right thing, and more of the wrongness fell away. He’d thought that maybe his dad was right after all - but then the other kid came up to tug on the teacher’s skirt, crying.

He said that Rin had pushed him first. He said that he’d only pushed Yukio because Rin was scary.

Listening to him had made Rin growl and clench his fists – but before he could move, Yukio had wrapped both his arms around him from behind, tight, and told the teacher what really happened.

When she asked Yukio if he was okay, Rin had settled a little. When she asked the other kid to apologize and he did, he'd calmed down even more – even if he didn’t think he meant it.

But when she asked Rin to apologize for pushing the other kid, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from yelling. He saw the other kid smile at him behind the teacher and he'd yelled louder. 

As punishment for yelling at a teacher, Rin had to stay inside during recess.

Yukio had begged to stay inside with him, but the teacher refused, saying he needed the exercise. He hadn’t run around with the other kids, though. Instead, he had sat near the window closest to Rin and drawn chalk pictures on the pavement.

Watching him, Rin had had to curl his fingers under his seat to keep from jumping up and running outside to tell Yukio how awesome they were – because they were, they’d been the _best_ pictures he had ever seen, and he couldn’t see them all from his chair.

Then the other kid had walked over and stood on top of the picture Yukio was working on. Rin had gotten off his chair and stood up, pressing his hands against the glass and just barely able to see over the windowsill.

He saw Yukio step away from his chalk and back toward Rin. He saw the kid push him again, hard enough that Yukio fell and scraped his palms.

He saw the kid laugh at the blood on Yukio’s hands and grin at Rin through the window.

Rin had leapt through the glass, shattering it, and had his hands around the other kid’s neck before they even hit the ground. Someone had cried out, but he hadn’t paid attention. He’d just gripped the kid with all his strength and dispassionately watched him sob and choke and beg. He could remember thinking that he'd tried his dad's way, but the kid didn't listen to words and didn't seem sorry until they did things Rin's way.

His way worked. This kid wouldn't push Yukio ever again.

It took two teachers to pry them apart. He bit one of them bloody trying to escape to finish what he started until he’d been distracted by the blood on Yukio’s face from the broken glass. By that time, the other kid was unconscious.

After their dad came and picked them up, they never went back to that school again. Still, all Rin had been able to think about was that the kid was still out there. It gnawed at him like he'd forgotten to eat lunch or hadn't put on his shoes. The kid was still out there; the kid could still come back and push Yukio.

It was a problem that needed a grown-up, so he'd started asking his dad when they could go find the kid.

He’d ask every morning when he woke up.

He’d ask again when they went to bed.

He’d ask when they walked to the store and when they went to the playground.

He’d ask when his dad sat in his office at night doing paperwork.

He'd ask at mealtimes and before school and after school and every time he could get his dad alone.

Every time, Shiro had patiently responded with variations on the same word: no. He said Rin didn't need to worry about it, the kid wouldn’t hurt Yukio again. He said they weren’t going back to that school. Eventually, he'd even said the kid had moved to another city.

Rin had gotten so frustrated by his inability to make his dad understand that he had stopped asking and started yelling. Then he'd escalated to little tantrums. When those hadn't worked, bigger ones. He wouldn't let it go.

He couldn't. 

After an especially violent tantrum, they went on a trip. Rin couldn’t remember what they did or where they went, but on the way home, he’d gotten very sick – so sick that he’d been in bed for almost a month. His dad had brought him soup and sat by his bedside reading books when he wasn’t asleep.

He was asleep a lot.

When he’d finally been well enough to leave the room, he’d been lethargic for a long time, sleeping more than usual and getting tired from just walking around the monastery.

His dad didn’t tease him about it – in fact, he’d babied him until Rin had yelled that he was almost five and wasn’t a little kid anymore. Shiro had laughed and thrown him into the air and said he’d believe that Rin wasn’t little when he weighed more than a sack of rice.

Things went back to normal after that. His dad started teasing him again. His energy gradually returned, and he forgot about the kid who’d pushed Yukio and how he’d felt.

Until today, anyway. Today, he felt exactly like he had when he was three and his dad told him they weren’t going back to school.

It hadn’t started that way. When he woke, he’d been tangled together with Amaimon on the same couch they’d napped on the day before. Rin didn’t remember how they got there and didn’t care – just immediately fixated on Amaimon’s pale, unmarked throat and begun sucking a bruise into his skin as he slept, some nameless part of him irritated by something he couldn’t quite remember.

The bruise didn’t stay. Neither did the next one. Before he could try a third time, Amaimon woke up, shoved him off the couch, and stalked out of the room.

That same nameless part of him disliked that - and 'disliked' was too nice a word, really. Rin had been halfway through the door, snarl twisting his face, before everything that happened the night before came rushing back and he’d turned on his heel and run, frantic, to try to scrub the memories off his skin.

Yukio’s soap left an itchy, painful rash that he tried to rub away with his towel until it became even itchier and more painful. Then he scratched at it with his nails until his arms were covered in welts. He put on the lotion Yukio had bought, but that just made it even worse.

It felt like chickenpox, if chickenpox hurt like the worst sunburn he’d ever had. Scratching at it made him remember clawing Amaimon’s back, which made him remember why he’d done it, which made him remember what Suguro had done.

That triggered it.

It was like he was three all over again and Suguro was that kid who pushed Yukio. He couldn’t think of anything but finding him and finishing what he’d started. If he didn’t finish it, Suguro would hurt someone else, just like he'd hurt his friends.

He had to find him. He couldn’t let him do it again. If he found him -

_It’d be for the best, right?_

Rin forced himself to walk to the kitchen, keeping his eyes firmly averted from the front door.

It would be easy to just go outside for a little bit. Suguro had to live nearby, and it wouldn't take long -

No, he couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t.

Amaimon was already there, sitting sideways on one of the kitchen counters. He didn’t look up, seemingly enthralled by a video game, but Rin didn’t know what to say, anyway. Kuro chirped a ‘good morning’ from the top of the refrigerator, but Rin couldn’t even look at him. He sat down at the table and stared unseeingly at the polished surface.

It was okay. He could do this. He just had to think of something else for a while, and the feeling would go away.

Luckily, there were lots of other things to think about.

First of all, he’d hurt Amaimon. Badly. Sure, he seemed okay this morning, but Rin could remember exactly what he’d done and how he’d felt while doing it. 

_Punishing him was the right thing to do. He deserved it, he **wanted** it - _

Rin shook his head hard, trying to clear his thoughts.

Okay, what about Mephisto? He flushed a little, fingers curling on top of the table. Images of what Mephisto had done flickered through his memory, too fast and too mortifying to focus on. 

A strange irritation whispered through his haze of embarrassment.

What was he even worrying about?

_We were just playing. _

Rin hid his face in his hands, leg bouncing restlessly against the bench. Kuro had jumped on the table and was pawing at his arm.

“I’m hungry,” announced a bored voice. A clawed finger poked his forehead. “There’s no food here.”

He looked up. Amaimon had climbed on top of the table and arranged himself in front of him, legs bracketing Rin’s sides. He was looking at him the same way he always had, like Rin hadn’t done anything at all. Like Amaimon wasn’t mad at him for...

_Like Amaimon wasn’t sorry for taking them from him._

He pulled him closer, burying his face in Amaimon’s stomach in a deceptively affectionate motion. His fangs lengthened in his mouth. Rin let out a heavy breath. The tip of one fang grazed cotton.

Amaimon allowed it for all of three seconds before he kicked him off the bench and onto the floor. Rin sprang up with a snarl and knocked him off the table. They tumbled to the floor with a crash and Rin straddled him, hands quick to find their way around his throat –

\- and then he was hitting the opposite wall hard enough to break plaster. He bared his teeth and tried to lunge forward - but was stopped by a fingertip that held all the pressure of an anvil.

Amaimon crouched in front of him, tapping his index finger against Rin’s forehead. “I said, I’m hungry. There’s no food here.”

Reason trickled in like a distant memory. He shoved his hands under his thighs to keep from grabbing Amaimon. “There was food here yesterday.”

“I ate it.”

Rin blinked. “There was a week’s worth of food in here, there’s no way you ate all of it.”

A shrug. “I was bored, and you were asleep.”

Of all the people to be an emotional eater… “Well, I don’t have any way to get you more food.”

A blank look. “That’s what humans have money for. Go buy some.”

“I don’t have any money.”

Not exactly true – he had a little, but it was strictly for emergencies and Amaimon wanting breakfast didn’t qualify.

Rin wasn’t hungry, anyway.

“Hmm.” Amaimon stood, trying to pull Rin up by the hair. Rin slapped at his hand.

“Quit it!”

“Hurry up and get off the floor, then.”

He begrudgingly got to his feet, plaster drifting to the floor. “I told you I don’t have any money. There’s no way you ate all the food.” He marched over to the refrigerator and threw it open.

Yeah, all the food was gone. Rin closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against cool plastic, taking slow, even breaths. At least he mostly just felt frustrated, now. The vicious urge he’d had earlier was still there, but it had dissipated a little after his scuffle with Amaimon. It was a relief to think about something else, besides...

He jumped as Amaimon pressed up behind him, resting his chin on Rin’s shoulder. Rin leaned back into him a little despite himself.

“I mean it, I don’t have any money,” he said tiredly.

A metallic pink charge card appeared in front of his face as if by magic.

“I do.”

***

The city was louder than he remembered. A festival or something must have been going on – he couldn’t see any decorations, but every city had its own thing, right? – because there was drumming everywhere they went. Slow drums, fast drums – all of them beat at different speeds and volumes and didn’t seem coordinated in any way.

The sound was mesmerizing, and he found himself pulling away from Amaimon more than once to try to follow some of the fastest beats. Eventually, Amaimon had grabbed his right hand and wouldn’t let go. Like everything else he did, he held it just a little too hard.

After fifteen minutes of walking, they stopped in front of a restaurant that was clearly closed. Amaimon pushed his way through the doors, dragging Rin behind him.

“Hey, wait.” He tried to stop, sneakers squeaking against the floor. “I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be in here.” The furniture was put away neatly, and the only light was coming from the far end of the room, under what was probably a kitchen door. Rin yanked at Amaimon's hand again. “Seriously, they’re closed.”

“There’s someone here,” he replied, pushing open the doors to the kitchen.

“…Hello? Can I help you?” A middle-aged woman asked, wiping her hands on her apron. Three other people were behind her, staring a little warily. “We’re closed. How did you get in here?”

The drums in the kitchen were loud and hypnotizingly fast. Rin pulled at Amaimon’s hand, not sure if he was trying to tug him toward the sound or out of the restaurant. “Sorry, we were just leav…”

Amaimon slapped the charge card on the metal counter like some kind of quest item. “We’re hungry. I would like to order food.”

The woman laughed incredulously and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know who you think you are, but we are **closed**. There are plenty of other restaurants open for breakfast.” She pointed at the door. “If you leave now, I won’t call the police.”

“We’re really, really sorry,” Rin said again, flushing with embarrassment - but he'd stopped trying to pull away from Amaimon. 

He'd wanted to go toward the drums, not the exit, and he knew what they were now. Amaimon's hand was the only thing keeping him from going after them. Rin didn't trust himself. Not today. “Come on, let’s go.”

Amaimon wouldn’t move. “I’m hungry and we’re here now. Why does it matter if you’re closed?” He pushed the pink card toward her with the tip of his finger.

“Come on,” Rin repeated, swaying slightly. He felt hot and light-headed. Amaimon’s grip tightened.

The woman sighed and pulled out her phone. “Hello? This is Faustus. Yes, the restaurant. Yes. There’s been a break-in and we require assistance.” She paused. “Yes. Right away, please.”

Before she could hang up, a lilting voice sounded from the door - followed by a heavy hand landing on Rin’s shoulder. “Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you two.”

_Great. _Rin tried not to cringe.

The woman laughed and returned to her call. “I apologize, the intruders seem to have been scared off. No need to send anyone out. Thank you.” She slid the phone into her pocket and nodded respectfully to Mephisto. “Mr. Pheles.”

“Gretchen, a delight as always.” Mephisto was a soothing chill against his back, one Rin couldn’t help but lean into despite his embarrassment. “I apologize for any trouble these two miscreants have caused for you and your lovely staff. Both are new to True Cross and… acclimating to a foreign environment.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It’s no trouble at all, Mr. Pheles.”

Mephisto smiled back, a cheerful baring of teeth. The chill increased; Rin fought not to lean further into him. “Please do let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you. Your restaurant is the jewel of our beautiful city.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Again, no trouble at all. Thank you for your patronage.”

“My pleasure. Thank you for being so accommodating regarding this little incident. Now,” he released Rin and Amaimon to bow with a flourish. “If you’ll excuse us, I’ll get these two troublemakers out of your way.”

Gretchen laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Rin stiffened. “Of course. Have an excellent day, Mr. Pheles.”

“Thank you.” Mephisto turned to Rin and Amaimon and clapped his hands. “Time to go, children.” Amaimon rolled his eyes and headed for the door, but Rin didn’t move, eyes locked on Gretchen. She didn’t notice, already back to whatever she’d been working on before their interruption.

A gloved finger poked him gently, and he jumped. “Come along now, Rin.”

With one last look at Gretchen, he went.

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that Mephisto’s vehicle of choice was a pink limousine.

As soon as he was inside, Rin fixed his eyes on the window and put as much space as possible between himself and the other two. Being trapped in a car with them after last night was the worst thing that could have happened. His heart was racing as fast as his thoughts. He wanted to teach Amaimon why he shouldn't drag him around. He wanted to bury himself in Mephisto's soothing chill. 

Rin reddened - but no one noticed. Mephisto was focused on Amaimon now, and neither had even glanced at him. 

“Really?” He sounded exasperated. “You know perfectly well that you can’t simply walk into a closed restaurant and demand service.”

“I was hungry.” A pause. “Rin was hungry, too.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Rin retorted. It was true, even if he hadn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday. “I told you the restaurant was closed.”

“And yet you went in with him,” Mephisto pointed out.

Rin doggedly stared out the window. “He was holding my hand, I couldn’t get away from him.”

“You couldn’t break away from someone holding your hand?” It was slightly mocking. Rin scowled at the window.

Amaimon huffed. “I told you he's weak.”

“What a strangely confident assertion, given your ‘panic’ last night.”

Rin grit his teeth, fingers clenching the edge of his seat as he turned toward the other two. “Don’t talk like I’m not here.”

After all his efforts, they were still sitting close enough to touch. Amaimon was slouching back against the seat, looking bored. Mephisto was stretched out, legs crossed at the ankle. He had his hat on his lap.

“Finally done with the window?” Mephisto asked lightly. “I’m sure there are so very many fascinating things out there on the street. Pedestrians, pigeons…” He paused, then added, “Perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll even see a True Cross student or two.”

_That's right. You almost forgot what's important._

Before he could stop himself, Rin was pushing at the door handle. It held fast.

He ground his teeth and glared at Mephisto.

“Locked, I’m afraid,” he sounded completely unapologetic. “You two won’t be having further adventures today. It seems Amaimon is desperate for my oversight, and given that you can’t be without him, you’ll both have to stay with me.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

That wasn’t true. Rin froze, hand slowly pulling away from the door. Had he almost…

_Yes, and there was nothing wrong with it. They were wrong in stopping -_

He shook his head violently, trying to clear his thoughts. Mephisto’s eyes sharpened and flicked to Amaimon. “Has he been like this all morning?”

“Yes.” Amaimon leaned over to grab Rin’s arm and push up his sleeve, exposing the rash. “And look at this.”

Rin hissed and tried to pull his arm back, but as usual, he couldn’t get away. “It’s just a rash, leave me alone.” He yanked against Amaimon’s hand and tried to push his sleeve back down. He didn’t like them seeing it. His lip started to curl over his teeth.

“Did you find the source?” Mephisto seemed oblivious to Rin’s attempts to pull away, mapping the lines of the rash with careful fingers. Rin couldn’t help but growl.

“Yes.” Amaimon stretched out his legs in front of him and yawned. “Your exorcists probably exacerbated it last night.” He released his arm and Rin jerked it back to his chest, pulling his sleeve down. “I’m hungry. Are we going to get breakfast now?”

Mephisto rolled his eyes. “Yes, we’ll get breakfast.” He looked at Rin, something calculating in his gaze. “How painful is the rash?”

“It’s fine.” It hurt like hell, but some part of him refused to let Mephisto know that. “Why do you care, anyway?”

Mephisto hummed. “I’m simply concerned for your well-being. Your brother did entrust me with your safety, after all.”

“Right,” he crossed his arms over his chest, preparing a retort – and his eyes were abruptly drawn to the pale curve of Amaimon’s throat as he tilted his head back against the seat. Rin swallowed, fangs elongating in his mouth.

Amaimon was oblivious. “I’m hungry, your car is too slow,” he muttered. “Why do we have to go this way?”

“You know why,” Mephisto replied, unamused. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting as if this is an entirely new and surprising inconvenience.”

“But it’s almost time, anyway.” He slouched further into the seat. “Why do we have to keep waiting?” 

Rin bared his teeth, remembering too late that his fangs were extended. Something gleamed in Mephisto’s eyes.

“I told you to stop talking like I’m not here!" It was almost a snarl.

Amaimon didn’t bother to look at him, but Mephisto tilted his head, affecting confusion. “Why does that bother you, Rin?”

“Because you sound just like you did last night!” The words were out before he could stop them, and he flushed, wrapping his arms tighter against his chest.

“Oh?” Mephisto leaned forward, lips parting to hint at just the very tips of his teeth. Rin tensed, unable to look away from his mouth. “So, you do remember. I was wondering when you’d bring that up.” He brushed the back of his gloved hand against Rin’s cheek. “I trust you enjoyed it?”

Rin flushed hotter, finally managing to avert his eyes - but that just brought his gaze back to Amaimon and the long line of his bare throat. His shoulders crept up toward his ears.

The only other place to look was out the window again. The car had rolled to a stop at a light, and he saw someone familiar in the crowd, waiting to walk. They were half-hidden behind some salarymen, but when the light turned, and the cars and crowd began to move, he came fully into sight.

Suguro.

He leaned closer, pressing his palm against the window. It was definitely him. His arm was in a sling and Shima and Konekomaru were on his heels.

_He’s right there._

He jerked at the door handle. Just like before, it wouldn’t open. He pulled harder.

_Hurry._

“As I said, it’s locked…”

Rin threw himself through the window.

It shouldn’t have been possible. There wasn’t enough room to gather the force to jump, for one thing, and the glass was thick – but recently, physics seemed more of a suggestion than a rule, and all he cared about was catching Suguro before he could get away again. He had to finish what he started. He _had_ to.

He wouldn’t let it hurt Yukio again.

He crashed to the cement, scraping the skin off his palms and half his face, and was up and after his prey so fast that he almost tripped, ignoring the hissed curse and squeal of brakes behind him.

Things were fragmented, after that.

He could hear the slap of sneakers on pavement and a chorus of angry horns and screams.

He could hear the drum of heartbeats, two far louder and far slower than the others.

He could smell sour fear and sweet, rich blood.

He could see two humans wheel around, hands up, trying to block him from his kill. He leapt over them.

He could hear his prey’s heartbeat as he gripped its throat, beating rabbit-fast against his palm. He could feel spit hit his face as it choked and struggled, trying to buck him off.

He could feel his right hand pull back, claws extending to tear out its throat –

\- and he could feel everything _stop_, like someone hit pause on a movie. Everything was silent but the sound of his own heart, thudding loud and rapid in his chest. The terrified humans stampeding around him were frozen in place. Drops of blood and saliva hung suspended in the air.

He couldn’t move, either, not more than a centimeter. He began to shake with rage.

He felt like he had that first day, trapped in a body that was too small, too weak, too wrong-shaped to be his own. 

He felt like he was shaking apart.

He felt like he’d finally be free.

A hand landed on his back. “Told you,” someone muttered. “He’s not even frozen.”

He wanted to arch against the touch.

He wanted to claw it off.

He wanted to rip his heart out and feed it to him.

“He’s mostly frozen,” someone else corrected, crouching in front of him and lifting his chin, peering into his eyes. He strained against the hold, snarling. The other ignored him, turning his head with possessive fingers.

He would kill him.

He would fuck him first.

Or after. Either would be fine. 

Weaker fingers tapped against his back. “But he should be completely frozen. All the rest of them are.”

An irritated sigh from the other. “If you’d taken him away before he got drenched last night, we wouldn’t be at this point already. Or if you’d done something earlier about the holy water - look at this rash!”

His hand was tugged from the air, sleeve pushed up to display his wound.

He was taunting him and it was deliberate; he could see the cruel gleam in the other’s eye.

His snarls increased in volume, and he started to pant under the strain.

This body was so weak.

“I thought it was part of your plan.” If punishment was what he wanted, he would gladly deliver it. “I didn’t want to interfere.”

His eyes tracked the other as he straightened, blinking past the spots filling his vision. “I’m sure that’s exactly why you didn’t bother to remove it.” He stepped behind him, out of sight. “Nothing at all to do with your own impatience.”

He heard a gasp, followed by a hissing whine. The fingers left his back and his body gave out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also about the chapter count, if anyone noticed - yes, i meant this to have 10 chapters, but then i belatedly realized that 30k words and 6 chapters later, i'm still in the intro, my b
> 
> and yeah Amaimon knows perfectly well how operating hours work, but it's so easy to forget when he doesn't get what he wants


	7. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old game gains a new player.

The void swallowed them with a snap, a cool, empty expanse of nothingness that greeted him with the kiss of a familiar.

Mephisto dropped Rin carefully into the darkness, swathing him with shadows to keep him in place. The half-demon had pushed his sealed body far past its limits when he’d tried to manifest through the seal, and the cuts and scrapes that had healed last night had been replaced by new injuries on an already fragile vessel.

Rin had been almost unconscious when he had taken them here, but the rage and predatory compulsion that drove him wouldn’t permit him to fall. His human half slept while his demonic nature drifted in a daze, forcing his body to overtax itself trying to maintain consciousness.

He rubbed a thumb soothingly over Rin’s cheekbone. “Just rest, you’ve pushed yourself too far today.” As he’d expected, neither the touch nor the words were well-received – but all the demon could do was glare with glassy eyes and twitch weakly from where he knelt on the floor. Mephisto smiled and snapped once more.

Amaimon fell with a shout from what could pass for a sky. Shadows lanced up to impale his palms and feet and he cried out, involuntary tears spilling from his vessel’s eyes.

Now to set the stage.

Mephisto retrieved Kurikara from its pocket in the void and manifested dim pools of light above Amaimon and Rin. He flicked the sword through the air until it stopped above Rin’s head to spin slowly, just out of reach.

He couldn’t resist checking for a reaction, and he wasn’t disappointed – judging by the murderous gleam in those eyes, the demon knew where its heart was and who was keeping it. If Rin had been able to move, his entrails would no doubt be wreathing the void by now.

Pleased with his work, he turned to Amaimon, who was writhing, tail twitching restlessly under his shirt. Mephisto circled him, examining the spears and making small adjustments.

Amaimon shuddered, hissing when the movement reopened his wounds. When he spoke, it wasn’t in any human tongue. “Why are you punishing me?” he asked, deliberately obtuse. “I did what you asked.”

Gehennan, as his exorcists called it, flowed like watercolor from a razor’s edge. Like any animal, humans knew only a few words, with no understanding of context or nuance. Untuned to celestial and infernal frequencies, they could hear only rasping syllables that warped and tore at their eardrums.

A human had once described it as hearing reality crack around them. More than one human he’d known had gone mad trying to translate the sounds.

“Are you sure you wish to open with that?” The question was in Japanese. He grasped Amaimon’s jaw and forced his head down to look at Rin.

He was pale and damp with sweat, looking as if he only clung to consciousness out of sheer stubborn determination. But he wasn’t disturbed by the language - if anything, his eyes were a little clearer.

Amaimon’s tongue darted over his lips with a serpentine hiss. “I did what you asked,” he repeated obstinately, still using Gehennan.

“Did you?” Mephisto asked, in the same language. Speaking it felt like coming home.

It wasn’t a feeling he welcomed.

“You enabled the destruction of my office, caused a scene in my favorite restaurant, allowed our little brother to be drenched in holy water - degrading his seal still further - and agitated the human I’ve been trying very hard to keep calm and out of the way.” His grip tightened punishingly. “Did you know he was already at the train station when he called me? You’re very lucky I didn’t give him a key.”

“I didn’t break our agreement.”

Mephisto sneered. “Humans have a saying,” he ignored Amaimon’s loud scoff, “Regarding the letter and spirit of the law. It’s understood that those who focus on the former should not be entrusted with matters of importance.” He released him. “Which of the two would you choose to describe your behavior over the last three days?”

Amaimon flexed his jaw as blood rushed into the bruised flesh. “We’re not human.”

Mephisto hummed and touched one of the spears. It sprouted spikes, shredding Amaimon’s left hand. He howled, more water spilling from his vessel’s eyes. “No,” he agreed. “We’re not.”

“I didn’t break our agreement. I didn’t do anything you said not to do,” Amaimon insisted, panting - then added, with the faintest hint of smugness: “You can’t punish me for this.”

He reached up to brush Amaimon’s sweaty bangs away from his forehead. “You’re right, I can't.” He felt him relax slightly under his touch and removed his hand, smiling at him. Amaimon stiffened.

Mephisto began to pull off his right glove, finger by finger. Amaimon tracked the motion warily. “Okumura Rin,” Mephisto said, sliding the glove into his pocket and flicking his eyes toward the demon on the floor, “is fragile. I believe I expressed this when you first entered my territory.” He traced a claw down the tense line of Amaimon’s throat, keeping his eyes fixed on Rin. “This time is especially critical for him, and it’s imperative that everything go according to the timeline I’ve so carefully constructed.”

He paused, letting the tension build. “I had originally thought your presence might be beneficial to my plans, but I’ve come to realize that I may be wrong.” He tapped Amaimon’s neck and pressed his thumb into the divot at the base of his throat.

“But you’re never wrong,” Amaimon said, pointedly blank. Mephisto scoffed and pulled off his other glove. He turned and cupped Amaimon’s face in a parody of affection, curling his claws into the skin dangerously close to his left eye.

Amaimon exhaled, shuddering.

“You flatter me, little brother.” He brushed his lips against Amaimon’s ear, nosing the curve of his jaw. The other demon opened for him expectantly, wetting his lower lip - and snarled when Mephisto did nothing more than press soft kisses at the corners of his mouth. He snapped at him, but he dodged the bite to brush an even gentler kiss under his ear.

Amaimon hissed as Mephisto continued to kiss him, human-sweet, trailing kisses down his jaw and back up to his mouth with a mere peck of the lips, no tongue. The other demon writhed with frustration, fresh blood blackening the spears as he tried to escape the touch.

Mephisto hummed and kissed his eyelids, easily evading another snap of teeth.

“Stop teasing me,” Amaimon grumbled - and received a kiss on the tip of his nose. He snarled, fangs extending. “Stop teasing me!”

He pressed another kiss onto the corner of Amaimon’s mouth, catching his chin in one hand as he slid the other under his shirt to dig a claw into his hip. The pressure earned him a pleased moan - until his claw extended and began to cut a sigil into Amaimon’s skin.

It was one he recognized, if the shiver wracking his frame was anything to go by. “Don’t put that name on me.”

Mephisto’s lips curved, but he didn’t look up - just continued tracing over the lines of the sigil. “Why not? You wear half his claim already.”

A sneer. “Because he’s your toy.”

He made a quietly amused sound and cut a little deeper. Amaimon flinched away from his hand. “I wouldn’t put it quite so crudely.” Mephisto glanced over his shoulder at Rin - whose eyes promised punishment, even glazed with exhaustion as they were. “I don’t think he appreciates it.”

Amaimon followed his gaze and his eyes caught on Rin’s, no doubt entranced by the contrast of violence and weakness he saw there. “He wouldn’t.”

Mephisto caught his chin with his other hand, turning Amaimon’s eyes to his. “You're certain you won't accept him?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

Mephisto went back to work on the bleeding sigil on his hip and bit at his jaw gently, just a glancing pressure of teeth. “Why? I thought you said he wasn’t boring.”

“I told you why.” Flat, but edging toward frustration. “He’s your toy.”

He nipped playfully at Amaimon’s lower lip. “Do you dislike me that much, little brother?” 

“No, but I won't join your war.” 

“It’s long past time you picked a side, don’t you think?” He curved his fingers around Amaimon’s sides, slowly pulling his hands down over his ribs and coiled tail as he brushed another light kiss against his jaw. Amaimon arched under his hands with a frustrated whine. “You’ll have to, sooner or later.”

“No, I won’t,” he insisted, stomach tautening as Mephisto’s hands went lower, unzipped him. “It’ll be over soon, anyway.”

“You think so?” He dipped one hand down to trace the same sigil just above Amaimon’s cock, so soft as to be barely felt. Amaimon sucked in a breath and hissed, pushing up against the sigil despite himself. Mephisto rewarded him by brushing his thumb closer - but not too close, prompting an irritated growl.

“It always is,” Amaimon said, sullen. “You both always play the same game, and it’s boring.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, preoccupied with teasing the crease of Amaimon’s upper thigh. “Is that so?” he asked, amused, and ran the flats of his nails over the base of his cock, still excruciatingly gentle. More blood slid down Amaimon’s wrists as he twitched, trying to twist toward him. Mephisto rubbed soothing circles over his hip and Amaimon’s whimper turned into a demanding snarl. “I think you’re forgetting our newest player.”

Amaimon sneered again, a little breathless, and rutted up toward him. “He’s weak.”

“Yet you begged to play with him.” Mephisto rolled a thumb over the velvet skin of Amaimon's scrotum, and twisted. Amaimon cried out and arched against the spears, letting out a hissing exhale when Mephisto slid his hand up his cock and thumbed his slit, spreading pre-come over the head. He pushed up into him, flushed and trembling - and Mephisto withdrew with a chaste kiss and a smile.

Amaimon jerked toward him and his cock twitched, more pre-come leaking from the tip. He glared and licked the blood from his lower lip. “You have too many rules.”

Mephisto’s smile widened over sharp teeth. “I do have a lot of rules,” he agreed. “They keep the game amusing, don’t you think?”

“No.” Amaimon tested his strength against a spear. “It’s boring. Why not just take what you want?” He curled his lip over the tips of his fangs in deliberate provocation.

Mephisto spread his hands and adopted a sympathetic expression. “I know how frustrating rules can be for you, Amaimon.” He paused for effect, waiting until he was certain he had his attention. “Given that, and given that you seem to be losing interest in the game, I think it might be best if you sat out this round.”

That prompted a snarl from the floor - following by a shuddering breath, as if it had taken everything Rin had to make it.

_Thank you, Rin. That was timed perfectly._

Amaimon strained forward against the spears with an answering snarl. “No. I don’t want to.”

Mephisto ignored him, stepping over to rest a hand in Rin’s dirty hair. The demon’s temperature spiked with fury at being unable to move, and he slipped a little power into his touch.

He needed this prop to last a little longer.

“I think some time here would be good for you. You like these, don’t you?” He gestured to the spears. “Why not stay here and enjoy them for a few years while I progress my plans without having to account for your creative interpretations of my wishes? I’ll let you out again when it’s all over.” He grinned, sharklike. “It would be, as the humans put it, a win-win.”

Amaimon pulled forward against the spears in his hands, ignoring the tears that leaked from his vessel’s eyes and stained his cheeks. “No. I don’t want to.” His heart rate increased, eyes darting around the void as if he’d somehow find something to bargain with. “He trusts me now. You’ll have to find someone else to watch him, and he’s not safe for your humans.”

“Oh, that won’t be too difficult.” A pink phone appeared in Mephisto’s unoccupied hand. “The human twin is so very eager to take up that responsibility.”

The spears shifted forward slightly. “You can’t blame me. I did what you asked.” Amaimon twisted and rocked forward, exerting more pressure. “You know where the holy water came from.”

An indifferent shrug. “He’s a little zealous, I’ll admit, but that’s fixed easily enough. Once he learns that the holy water was doing the opposite of what he intended, it won’t be a problem any longer.” He glanced down at Rin. He was still and had started to go cold under his touch.

A little too much, perhaps. Mephisto withdrew his hand, watching Rin sway on his knees. “He doesn’t want his brother unsealed, you know.”

Amaimon scoffed and spit blood onto the floor, rocking forward again. More blood dripped down the spears. “He’s weak.”

This was exactly why his little brother was only ever a supporting player.

“I’ve said this too many times already, but it seems a reminder is required.” An armchair popped into existence and Mephisto sat down, crossing his legs. “There are many other factors to consider beyond raw power. It’s far past time you understood this.”

The spears shifted a little more. “Why? They _are_ weak. I don’t understand why you like them so much.” Blood ran from Amaimon's nose, his vessel protesting the excessive damage. “They’re always breeding, anyway. It’s not as if they’ll run out.”

Mephisto leaned back in his chair with an annoyed sigh. “This is why a timeout would be good for you, little brother.”

“If I disappear now, he’ll have questions for you.” Amaimon tilted his head to the side to expose his throat, looking at him significantly. “You know what he’s doing.”

Mephisto rolled his eyes. “The claim is half-formed and it’s been three days. Three days, Amaimon. Give it another three and he’ll have forgotten you already, especially if he has the human twin to distract him.” One corner of his mouth quirked up, cruel. "They’ve been separated for so long, you know. It must be terrible, from their perspective.”

“I did what you asked!”

“To the letter,” he agreed calmly. “But as I said, the situation is delicate. A bit more than ‘to the letter’ is required.”

Amaimon didn’t have an argument for that - or didn’t want to make one - and so, predictably, began to whine.

A human would have called it threatening, would have been terrified of the sounds he made and the way he gnashed his teeth, but to Mephisto, he just looked like a petulant child. He always did this whenever he got into a situation he didn’t like, and it was at times like these that he was reminded of how very _new_ Amaimon was - relatively, of course.

His exorcists didn’t find him so, but then, his brother’s existence outdated their species.

“It wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t insist on keeping him sealed,” Amaimon was growling. “It’s wearing away so quickly, anyway! Why does it matter if it goes now?”

Mephisto shrugged. “I don’t want it to go now.”

“So?”

“So, it won't.” He got to his feet, brushing off his shorts. “I really do think it’d be best if…”

Amaimon ripped his right hand from the spear and lunged forward with all his strength, ignoring the crack of bone and wet tear of muscle. His hand was a mess, but he’d managed to grab Mephisto’s scarf, pulling them face to face. “I don’t want to go.”

Mephisto looked down at his scarf. “I just had this cleaned, you know.”

“I don’t want to go,” Amaimon repeated, twisting harder. He bared his teeth.

The spears piercing his hands dissipated into threads of shadow and yanked Amaimon back to his original position, whipping around his limbs and forcing them apart.

Mephisto pulled off his scarf, disgusted.

“I don’t want to go,” Amaimon repeated, straining against his new bonds.

He wouldn’t find any leeway in these. He wasn’t feeling that kind after that little display.

“I thought you said he was weak,” Mephisto mocked, getting to his feet. “You’re refusing his claim, aren’t you?”

A hiss from the floor. He glanced down and wrapped a thread of shadow over Rin’s mouth before he could speak. He shouldn’t be able to - not here, in the heart of his aspect - but Father lived for nothing if not to defy expectations, and an interruption would be inconvenient.

Amaimon stared at him, sullen. “I won’t accept it,” he confirmed, finally. “But that doesn’t mean he’s boring.”

A laugh. “That is certainly true.” Mephisto drew a circle in the void and pushed it toward Amaimon with a fingertip, bright with moving images.

It caught his attention – Amaimon froze, tensing further with every flicker of light. He strained toward the images with a whine, fangs extending as if he could somehow devour the ephemeral.

He waved a hand and the circle was swallowed by the void. Amaimon’s eyes snapped to him, a strange desperation in his usual blank stare. His pupils were blown. He tilted his head back, almost - but not quite - baring his throat. Close to the real thing this time, instead of just a move in the game.

“I want to stay." He swallowed, tilting his head back further. "Please let me stay, Samael.”

Mephisto hid a smile and scoffed, stepping toward him and staying just out of reach. “Why should I let you?”

Amaimon’s eyes tracked his movements, a little wild. “I can help with your plan. I’ve helped already.”

“Oh?” He feigned confusion. “I thought you said you didn’t want to join me.”

“Not the war!” he said, voice rising. “I approved your exorcism toys. You owe me a favor.”

He laughed. “Really, you’re starting with that?” Mephisto stepped closer to pat Amaimon’s shoulder patronizingly, evading a snap of teeth as he slid behind him. “I have any number of toys they can use. I think you’d be of most help to my plan if you stayed right here.”

“You owe me,” he hissed, twisting to face him. The movement pushed his vessel a little too far; something popped in its spine.

Mephisto grabbed Amaimon by the hair and pulled his head back, baring his throat. “Those toys aren’t critical to my plan, Amaimon.”

A snarl. “I saved your exorcists.”

Irrelevant. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“It was a favor,” he repeated stubbornly.

“That I didn’t ask for.” Mephisto curled a finger and the piece of void holding Rin slid forward, bringing him in front of Amaimon. Amaimon growled, struggling uselessly against his bonds.

Rin blinked slowly up at them from deceptively glazed eyes - the demon was pulling at the shadows around him, trying to break his bonds without alerting Mephisto to that fact. But this was his aspect, and Rin wasn’t strong enough to draw from him.

“You said I needed to think of the spirit of the law,” Amaimon finally said, as if he’d found the magic words. His eyes rolled up to look at him. “I did, didn’t I?”

“One small exception to prove the rule.” He twisted his fingers in Amaimon’s hair, forcing his head back further. Something cracked in his neck. “Why should I reward you for something I didn’t ask for?”

“I’ll watch him for you!”

“You’d do that already.” Mephisto released his hair with a scoff, pushing him forward. “I could just as easily have a familiar do it.”

“I’ll kill them,” Amaimon promised.

“As if you could do that from here.” He dragged a claw down Amaimon’s spine. “You’re really not offering much, you know.”

He paused for effect and bared his teeth in a gentle smile, knowing Amaimon would hear it in his voice even if he couldn’t see the expression. “Just whining like a human.”

Amaimon shrieked with rage and snapped at him, bucking up against the restraints. This time, they actually wobbled a little. Mephisto released his ankles and Amaimon tried to kick him, but he once again kept out of reach.

Mephisto stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Rin. “Since we’re on already on this topic, you seem very concerned with that particular little favor,” he said lightly, brushing a hand against Amaimon’s cheek and narrowly avoiding another slash of teeth. “Do you want me to retract it? I didn’t think you’d be so concerned over some minor kin, but perhaps you feel sorry for them.”

He shrieked louder. “Don’t make fun of me!”

Before he could shriek again, Mephisto silenced him a wet kiss, pulling Amaimon’s hips to his and ignoring the vicious bite that filled his mouth with blood. Amaimon struggled against him. When Mephisto’s hand found his cock, Amaimon tore away from his mouth to bury his fangs in his shoulder - directly over the worst of the rot, ensuring he couldn’t escape without severely damaging his vessel.

Mephisto hissed; Amaimon’s legs came up to try and pull him closer, tail snaking out to coil around his wrist in yet another attempt to keep him in place.

He permitted it, maintaining a brutal rhythm until Amaimon’s thighs trembled and he came with a cry, warmth spilling between them as he slumped, panting, into the restraints.

He was not, however, done.

“You still owe me,” Amaimon said at last. He sounded irritated.

Mephisto leaned close, breath hot against Amaimon’s ear. “I’ll tell you what, little brother,” his tongue flicked out and the other demon shivered, “I do feel I owe you.” Amaimon whined. “I think your _kindness_,” that prompted an infuriated hiss that was quickly followed by another, more eager sound as Mephisto snapped to remove his clothes, “in preventing Rin from killing my exorcists deserves a reward. So, I’ll let you keep your favor and continue to watch Rin.”

Mephisto nipped his ear hard enough to draw blood. “In exchange, you can owe me a favor.”

As he expected, it effectively killed the mood. Amaimon went still under him, not even struggling. “No.”

They had many words for ‘no.’ This one was abject refusal, the sort of denial that could lead to a death if the other party continued to push.

“Why not?” His fangs pressed teasingly against Amaimon’s throat.

“I told you,” he said flatly, uncoiling his tail from Mephisto's wrist. “I don’t want to join a side. It’s a boring game and I don’t want to play.”

He pulled him closer, cock nudging his entrance. Amaimon tensed. “I never said you had to join a side, Amaimon.”

“You’ll make it that way, though.” He tried to twist away from him. “You always do,” he added, a little sullen.

“Do I?” Mephisto asked, and released the remaining restraints, pulling him down on his cock in the same motion. The other demon cried out and arched against him to bite at his throat… and then abruptly stopped as he remember that he was supposed to be sulking.

It took effort, but Mephisto didn’t rut up into him - didn’t even move until Amaimon began to whine and twist on his cock, writhing uselessly in his unforgiving grip.

He started to pull out, agonizingly slow, and Amaimon clawed him closer, yanking them together again. Mephisto crushed bruises into his hips and took their rhythm entirely out of Amaimon’s control.

Heat brushed his right ankle and he looked down to see Rin staring up at him, pupils slit. Mephisto glanced at Kurikara - the paper seal was burnt through, even surrounded by its timeless bubble. Rin’s claws dug into his flesh, seeking the tendon.

Yet another little demon trying to keep him in place.

He huffed a laugh against Amaimon’s throat. “Incredible, isn’t it,” he remarked casually, a little breathless. Amaimon clenched around him, shuddering, as their rhythm increased. “He shouldn’t be able to move right now.”

Wouldn’t have been able to, in fact, if Mephisto hadn’t slipped power into him earlier and then sufficiently weakened the shadows - except for the one covering his mouth - to permit him to crawl over here.

Rin’s hand didn’t leave his ankle, trying to claw its way up. Amaimon glanced down, catching the movement. Unable to resist, Mephisto leaned in, turning his mouth to brush Amaimon’s ear. “He’ll really be something when he’s unsealed, won’t he?”

Amaimon came apart.

Mephisto let himself follow a few seconds later and dumped Amaimon into the shadows beside Rin - who immediately took the opportunity to claw his way onto Amaimon’s lap now that his restraints were released. Mephisto dropped down behind them, panting, and rested his back against Amaimon's.

“Okay,” Amaimon said, after a minute of silence. From where they sat, Mephisto couldn’t see his face. “I will give you a favor.”

He was careful to sound surprised. “Oh?”

“One. And I have a condition.” _I would hope so._ “It can’t be something that will align me with a side in your war.”

“Hm.” Mephisto let the silence stretch, pretending to give it thought as he tilted his head back to rest against Amaimon’s shoulder and stared up into the void.

Unsurprisingly, his brother took the opportunity to continue his demands.

“Also, I get to stay with Rin. You don’t get to keep me away.”

He hummed again, taking his time. Amaimon needed to think this was his idea, after all. “And what would I gain from this?”

“I’ll watch him, and I’ll owe you _one_ favor under that condition.” A measured pause. “That’s enough.”

Mephisto's tail slipped from his waist to coil around Amaimon’s left wrist, trapping his hand in the void. “And what about my exorcists? Will you prevent him from killing them?”

“If I feel like it.”

In other words: _I’ll kill them as soon as I get out of here as a thank you for toying with me. _

“Not good enough.” He covered Amaimon’s right hand with his own and pressed down hard enough that he couldn’t pull away. “If you’re going to watch him, it can’t simply be for your entertainment.”

“I’ll get rid of the holy water in his dormitory,” Amaimon said, with all the seriousness of someone swearing a life debt.

Mephisto rolled his eyes. “How generous of you.”

Amaimon wiggled his fingers under Mephisto's, testing his strength. “I won’t let him kill the humans,” he offered at last, then clarified. “But only those students. The two females and three males.”

“Not good enough,” Mephisto countered immediately, simply because he could. “Only if _you_ also agree not to kill them and include his brother in that number.” A beat. “And you have to get rid of the holy water in his dormitory.”

“Fine, the brother and the five students. No one else.” Amaimon shifted against him. “And I’ll remove the holy water, but you have to agree to void our previous agreement. I don't like it.”

_Perfect_.

Mephisto let the seconds slip away as he pretended to consider his terms. “Very well, accepted,” he said at last. “We have a deal.”

“Accepted,” Amaimon repeated, and grunted as Rin burrowed sleepily into his lap. The two ignored Mephisto as he got to his feet and walked past them, grasping Kurikara where it spun silently in the void.

Now that he had them where he wanted, why not raise the stakes a little?

“After all that, I find myself in a giving mood.” Amaimon’s eyes snapped open, wary – and widened as they saw his grip on the sword. The demon in his lap made a strange sound and struggled to his feet, swaying slightly. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Mephisto pulled the sword from its sheath and the void died in blue-white flame.

Rin screamed as his flames engulfed him, a savage, triumphant sound that triggered a primitive human prey response that somehow still lingered in his vessel, raising the hair on the back of his neck.

At the same time, a far more ancient, demonic instinct urged him to scream with <strike>Father</strike> <strike>brother</strike> <strike>_other self_</strike> **Rin** and throw himself into the flames.

He heard an answering cry from Amaimon and Rin sprang on him like a viper, locking his fangs around his throat and snarling so loud it echoed even in the void. His ears lengthened, a long black tail slipping out from under his shirt as flames danced over his skin.

Amaimon clawed him closer with an eager whimper, choking on blood when Rin's fangs hit a vein. Rin flipped Amaimon onto his stomach, facing Mephisto, and pulling his hips up, thrusting into him as his tail lashed stars into the void.

Amaimon whined, sensitive and overused, and tried to shake him off - or buck back into him.

It was hard to tell, from this angle. Mephisto sheathed Kurikara, vanishing it into the void. Rin growled, continuing to thrust into Amaimon. Apparently his claim was temporarily more important than his heart, now that the first seal had broken.

Mephisto took a step forward, letting his tail swing free behind him - and stopped when Rin snarled another warning, eyes flat and cold. He waited patiently as the snarl rose in volume and Rin sank his fangs into Amaimon’s shoulder, still glaring at Mephisto - and then came, eyes shuttering closed.

He huffed with amusement and crouched in front of them, watching Amaimon whimper as Rin continued to mouth at his shoulder. Mephisto pushed gently at Amaimon until Rin took the hint and dragged him back into his lap. The earth king slumped against him, boneless and exhausted, and grumbled quietly as Mephisto pulled them both close.

Rin ignored him, focused on the newly healed bite on Amaimon’s shoulder. He bit down again, reopening the wound with a purr. Amaimon just exhaled wearily and curled further into his chest - then whined a complaint as Mephisto’s fangs slid into his opposite shoulder.

Mephisto made an amused sound against his skin and the earth king tensed briefly, annoyed, before going lax between them with a sigh, too exhausted to protest. He rewarded his tolerance with a purr and released his shoulder to clean the blood from his skin with a rough tongue.

A second later, Rin did the same, and Mephisto saw the claim flicker into life, bright in his mind’s eye.

It was Rin’s claim, not Amaimon’s - but Amaimon’s refusal to complete the claim was irrelevant in any case. Rin had effectively chained himself to the other demon, too young and driven by instinct to know better. He wouldn’t be able to stray far from this babysitter, whether he liked it or not.

Of course, Rin would be a bit unstable because the claim wasn’t returned, and Amaimon would be somewhat inconvenienced now that the first seal was broken, but that was what the absolute brat had signed up for.

Besides… he glanced at Rin, still busy licking Amaimon’s throat. He was certain Amaimon would accept the claim, eventually. He’d already proven himself unable to resist even a sealed Rin.

It was only a matter of time before he reciprocated and found himself forced into the decision he’d been so adamantly opposed to.

He smirked - and Rin surprised him, pushing Amaimon to the side as he leaned forward to capture Mephisto's mouth. He returned the kiss with a playful nip and Rin’s tail slid up to snare his wrist, curling around it in a possessive grip. His own tail twitched in response and he coiled it around his waist.

If Rin had been upset over fangs - and Amaimon had seemed to indicate that was the case - he couldn’t imagine how he’d react to a _tail_, even such a lovely one as this. He toyed with the silky tip, smiling against Rin’s mouth, and found himself suddenly knocked back and straddled.

Rin growled.

He looked up, curious. Rin’s eyes were bright and wild with the release of the first seal and Amaimon’s claiming, but he couldn’t threaten him, sealed as he was. Kurikara still limited him greatly, even unsheathed. His instincts would know that he was still weak and respect him as the dominant demon -

\- Rin’s teeth sank into his shoulder with a purr, and Mephisto arched back with an involuntary hiss.

A second claim flared to life in his mind’s eye, just as blinding as the first.

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> demon politics, the cock(claim)block nobody wanted


	8. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin and Amaimon do some redecorating. A long-awaited conversation is had, but arrives at no resolution.

He felt good.

He felt better than good.

He felt like the best he’d ever been and a hundred times better than that. It was like he'd finally come up for air after holding his breath so long he'd forgotten how his lungs worked. It was like he'd been crammed and crushed and twisted into a too-small box that was ripping at the seams and had finally, finally torn his way out. 

His body still felt like a cage and not entirely his own, but it didn’t hurt as badly - and he felt _real_ in a way he never had, even before he got sick.

Staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, Rin wondered if he’d ever really known himself at all.

“What’s happening to me?” he asked quietly, almost to himself.

Amaimon came behind him to look over his shoulder, chin digging uncomfortably hard into Rin’s collarbone. His hands reached around to tug Rin’s mouth open and display his teeth. “He released the seal.”

Rin blinked at him. ‘He released the seal’ sounded a hell of a lot like a line from one of the fantasy manga Yukio had loved.

“Wha?” It came out a little garbled, with his mouth stretched like that.

“He took away what was hiding these.” Amaimon pressed a thumb to the tip of one of Rin’s fangs. “And this.” He brushed a caress against the base of Rin’s tail. Rin shivered. “And these.” Amaimon licked the tip of a newly pointed ear.

Some part of him purred with satisfaction over the attention, but Rin shook Amaimon off and turned to face him, his back to the mirror. “They weren’t hiding,” he said. “I didn’t have them before.” His heart was loud in the room, drowning out Amaimon’s unnaturally slow beat. “What did he do to me?”

Something gleamed in Amaimon’s eyes. His fangs extended and he reached out to pull Rin close - but Rin stopped him with a hand to his chest and repeated the question, this time with more force.

“What did he do to me?”

Amaimon tilted his head like Rin had said something confusing. “I already told you,” he said slowly. “He released the seal.”

“What does that even mean?” Rin demanded. His tail lashed behind him, showing his annoyance even clearer than his face did.

“I already told you what it means,” Amaimon repeated. “You don’t look like a human anymore.” He caught the end of Rin’s tail between two of his fingers.

A spark of pleasure skittered up Rin’s spine and he struck Amaimon’s hand away, pressing himself back further into the counter. “Don’t touch it!” His tail curled around one of his legs, tip twitching against his ankle. Having it felt right, like having fangs felt right. 

Just knowing they were there made it easier to breathe somehow - and that bothered him, because this wasn't who he was. Rin didn’t know how he’d done it, but Mephisto had changed him into something else. All the weird shit started happening when he got here and met him and Amaimon. He’d just been sick before. This was different.

Mephisto wasn’t here right now, but Amaimon was. He’d asked Amaimon what he’d done before, right after he hit him in the head with a rock. He hadn’t answered him then. He would answer him now. Rin’s lip curled over his fangs as he came off the counter toward Amaimon. “What did you do to me?”

Amaimon made an irritated noise. “I didn’t do anything.” He held his ground, ignoring the closing gap between them in favor of staring Rin down. “I told you what he did.” A beat, and then he added: “Stop asking the same question over and over. It’s annoying.”

“I’m annoying? Are you kidding me?” Rin grabbed him by the collar, snarling into his face. “What did you do to me?” The fever and pain that usually rose when he was this angry were gone - he just felt a subtle, almost comforting heat under his skin that brushed against the backs of his hands as if to say _I’m here, I’m here._

Amaimon’s eyes flicked down. Rin followed his gaze.

His hands were on fire.

Rin stumbled back, too stunned by the sight of the blue flames licking over his skin to stop Amaimon from taking one of his hands in his own and holding it up to examine it.

The flames ate away at Amaimon’s skin, and then the flesh beneath - but rather than pull away, Amaimon drew Rin’s hand up to his face and rubbed his cheek against it with a purr.

Rin felt an answering purr in his own throat. His fingers curved around Amaimon’s jaw, pressing closer as the smell of burning meat hit him.

Saliva flooded his mouth and he jerked back. Some of Amaimon’s skin stuck to Rin’s hand and tore away from his face with the motion.

Amaimon’s cheek was a ruin of melted skin and blistered flesh, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were hungry and focused on Rin’s hands. On his cheek, a red tendon moved, half-veiled by tattered skin.

Rin waited for the urge to vomit.

It didn’t come.

“Get away from me!” Rin backed up so fast he tripped, hands automatically raised to warn Amaimon away - until he remembered why he shouldn’t and shoved them behind his back, instead. The fire didn’t burn him or his clothes, just like it hadn’t last night, but it hadn’t burned Amaimon then, either.

Amaimon stalked forward, ignoring him. He didn’t seem to care about his ruined cheek, just like he hadn’t seemed to care about being impaled last night. His focus was entirely on Rin and the hands he’d hidden behind his back.

“I mean it, get back!” Rin’s back hit the wall and he dug his fingers into the cool tile. They stayed cool and firm under his touch. He hadn’t burned anything but Amaimon.

_Good. _

Rin shuddered, eyes flicking toward the door – but then Amaimon was on him, crowding him against the wall. This close, he could see the burn fading, skin smoothing over like he’d never touched him.

An alien rage rose at the thought. Rin tried to merge with the wall behind him. His hands shook.

Amaimon shoved a knee between his legs hard enough to crack tile and tried to force his hands behind Rin’s back.

“Stop hiding. I want to see them.”

Rin just pressed back harder into the wall. Amaimon huffed and tapped a finger behind him. The wall caved in, removing Rin’s support - and as soon as he was off-balance, Amaimon grabbed his hands. His skin bubbled as he and Rin hit the floor.

The sound Rin made could have been a horrified yelp or a playful moan. He yanked his hands back and the flames vanished as if they’d never been, but the attempt at protection wasn’t appreciated.

Amaimon sat back on Rin’s hips, scowling. “Bring them back.”

“Get _off_ me,” Rin bit out, and threw Amaimon back with enough force that he made a new hole in the opposite wall. Before he could wonder at his new strength, he was hit by a truck - or what felt like one, anyway. Rin flew through the wall behind him and several more walls after that before finally rolling to a stop in the kitchen.

Kuro yowled and hid on top of the refrigerator. Rin blinked, dazed, and turned to look at the series of holes he’d left behind him. He could see all the way to the showers from here.

“Catch!”

Something large and heavy hit his face, knocking Rin back against the cabinets and sending cutlery clattering to the floor.

It should have killed him, knocked him out at the very least, but all Rin felt was a spike of pain that passed so quickly it was like it was never there. He grabbed the table by its edge - because that’s what it was, that was what Amaimon had thrown at him, a fucking _table_ \- and hurled it at Amaimon. Amaimon ducked, and the table went through the other wall.

“You’re stronger,” he observed, looking at the hole the table had made.

Rin tackled him with a yell and they tumbled out of the kitchen and into the corridor beyond. He grabbed Amaimon by the neck, snarling into his face. It would be easy to crush his throat - Rin was already holding him hard enough to choke - but Amaimon didn’t seem worried.

He seemed… pleased.

“That’s the spirit. Now, bring them back.”

Rin’s snarl increased in volume. Bring them back? No. Amaimon was going to stay here under Rin’s hands until he told him what he’d done and what was happening to him. 

_You already know. _

“Shut up!” Rin shook Amaimon by the throat, bumping his head against the floor. “Tell me what’s happening to me! What did you do?”

Amaimon’s eyes flattened. “I’m tired of you blaming me for something I didn’t do.”

Rin tightened his grip. Adrenaline sparked in his veins as he prepared for a punch, or worse.

Amaimon flicked his nose.

It was so unexpected that Rin blinked, grip loosening fractionally. Amaimon took the opportunity to break free and knock Rin onto his back.

“I already told you what he did,” he said evenly, already on his feet. “What. He. Did. Not me.”

He looked down at Rin on the floor, evaluating, and kicked him.

Rin flew back through the wall, landing against the kitchen counters near the sink. More cutlery fell to the floor and something hissed behind him. Strange fingers crept out from the shadows to grab at Rin’s head, but Amaimon growled and whatever the thing was squeaked and vanished back under the sink.

Rin was almost to his feet when a heavy hand forced him back down to the floor.

“I’ll explain this to you one more time.” Amaimon dug his fingers into Rin’s hair, claws pricking at his scalp as he pulled his head back to bare his throat. “But only because you’re new.”

Rin snarled and wrenched his head out of Amaimon’s grip. Some hair came away with the motion, but he didn’t care. His hand snapped out to slash at Amaimon’s belly. He didn’t have claws, but it didn’t matter, he’d -

Amaimon grabbed his wrists and crushed them together. He dropped down in a crouch in front of him and pulled Rin forward until his face was buried in Amaimon’s shoulder.

Rin's bite was meant to punish, but as soon as he tasted Amaimon's blood, he couldn’t focus on anything but the shoulder in front of him. He ground down, biting harder. A growl rumbled in his throat when his fangs scraped bone.

A familiar monotone broke through his vicious haze. “Listen. I will not explain again.”

Rin tensed, fangs starting to slide from Amaimon’s shoulder - and Amaimon forced his head back down. Rin couldn't stop himself from biting him again. 

Satisfied that Rin would stay put, Amaimon continued. “Mephisto released the seal, returning some of what was taken from you.” He paused, considering, and added: “You are not a _human_.”

The last word was spat with disgust, and that was enough to completely break Rin out of his haze. Dread shrunk his heart into a stone that rattled within his ribs and he started to struggle, pulling away from Amaimon’s shoulder. 

“Get off me! If I’m not human, then what am I?”

_You know. _

Amaimon yanked Rin back down, crushing him against him when Rin tried to claw away. “You are a demon. Obviously.” 

What the hell?

With a sudden burst of strength, Rin shoved Amaimon back with both hands, moving before he was even aware he’d made the decision. “Are you kidding me?”

_No child should be that ferocious! He’s just like a devil! _

_He really shouldn’t be around other children, he’s like a demon’s child! _

_You’re a demon! I hate you! _

_Don’t play with him, he’ll bite you! _

_Rin’s so creepy, Teacher! I’m scared! _

Amaimon had thrown himself back toward Rin with a snarl, but Rin barely noticed. It was like his body and mind were suddenly separate entities; his body grappled with Amaimon, trading blows and howls of rage, while his mind devoted all its energy to denying what Amaimon had said.

_You are a demon. _

He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. Even if demons did exist somehow, his dad said he wasn't one. 

Rin had even asked him, back when he was too little to understand that the question was stupid because demons weren’t real. Back then, he’d been called ‘demon’ enough that he’d started to wonder if he really was, so he’d asked the one person who had never lied to him what he was.

That person told him he was human. Rin had accepted it unquestioningly and moved on. From then on, being called a demon still pissed him off, but he’d never worried about it because his dad didn't lie.

Maybe this was all a dream.

He’d grown a tail and fangs overnight. His hands had burned without burning. He’d melted Amaimon’s _face_ and then he’d thrown him through a wall – and been thrown through a wall. He should be bruised and cut all over, but nothing hurt.

He’d chased Suguro through the streets like an animal.

He’d enjoyed watching Amaimon writhe and bleed and purr on spears that should have killed any human person. _Enjoyed_ it, like some kind of psychopath.

He’d bitten Amaimon and taken comfort in it. He’d bitten Mephisto. He’d... had sex with them both - one a stranger and the other Yukio’s boss - when he’d never done that with anyone before. He'd never even kissed anyone before.

Amaimon wanted to be around him. He wasn’t scared of Rin.

Kuro talked.

Yukio had called him.

These were all things that didn’t happen outside of dreams.

Maybe he’d been dreaming since he moved in with Yukio. Maybe he’d wake up and Yukio would still be there, wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. Maybe he’d been dreaming longer than that and his dad was still alive.

These were all dream things, but he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

He just wanted to be.

Something grabbed him, and Rin’s mind slammed back into his body. He was dangling in the air far, far above the ground – and the only thing between him and a long drop was the gloved hand crushing his wrist.

Rin looked up, already knowing who he’d see.

Mephisto looked like he always looked: amused, like he knew a joke that everyone else wasn’t in on yet. He was standing on the edge of a roof (how had they gotten there?) and smiling down at Rin - and Amaimon, who dangling from Mephisto’s other hand, a few feet away.

Amaimon was struggling against the hold like he’d rather be a smear on the sidewalk than tolerate Mephisto’s touch. Or maybe he just wanted to get at Rin; he looked mad, or maybe excited.

Rin couldn’t tell.

“Hello, children.”

“Let me go,” Amaimon demanded. Mephisto hummed and shook him a little, carelessly swinging him back and forth in the air - then let them both go.

For an endless, terrifying moment Rin was hurtling toward the ground with nothing but air between him and eternity – and then there was a ‘snap’ and he found himself on the roof, right next to Amaimon.

Amaimon immediately wrapped his arms around Rin from behind and glared at Mephisto.

“You’re interrupting.”

Interrupting what, destroying Yukio’s dorm?

… Oh. _Shit_. Rin winced.

“I thought you might require some assistance,” Mephisto returned easily. “It appeared as if communication had broken down.”

“No shit,” Rin snapped. “He told me I was a…” He couldn’t finish that sentence.

Amaimon finished it for him. “A demon,” he said, impatient. “You are a demon. I am a demon. Mephisto is a demon.” He sounded annoyed. “This is all your fault. He doesn’t know what he is.”

“Didn’t you just tell him?” Mephisto asked, circling behind them – just as he’d done with Amaimon the night before. Rin fought the urge to turn and keep Mephisto in his line of sight. 

Amaimon made an irritated noise. “He doesn’t believe me.”

“Because it doesn’t make sense! You can’t just tell me I’m a…” Rin choked on the word and continued, “and expect me to believe it! Besides, what about Yukio?”

“Who?” Amaimon sounded genuinely confused.

“The twin.” Mephisto stopped in front of him, catching Rin’s chin. His eyes were curious, but in a cold way - like Rin was some kind of bug that Mephisto found fascinating, but wouldn’t especially mind squashing, either. “What about Mr. Okumura?”

The Rin of last night found it intriguing and wanted to break that calm. The Rin of right now just found it infuriating and wanted to punch Mephisto’s face in. Rin bared his teeth. “You know what I’m asking!”

Amaimon’s arms tightened into iron bands around his chest.

Mephisto looked apologetic, but his eyes were dancing behind the serious expression. Rin hissed and pushed against Amaimon’s hold, but he just held him tighter. “I’m afraid I don’t, you’ll have to clarify.”

He was doing it on purpose. He wanted to make him say it.

Rin snarled, fangs extending, and the grip on his chin tightened. Something dark glimmered in those cold eyes, and Rin snapped at Mephisto’s hand, pushing harder –

\- only to hear an annoyed huff as Amaimon leapt up on his back and wrapped his legs around his waist. Rin jumped, startled, and Mephisto stepped back with a laugh.

“Your brother is human.”

“But we’re twins.” He knew enough that twins didn’t work that way. One couldn’t be one thing and the other something else, right?

“Usually one dies,” Amaimon interjected, shifting against him. Rin’s hands went up automatically to steady him. “Maybe he lived because he’s human.”

“There were some complications,” Mephisto agreed.

That provided no clarity whatsoever – and again, he was sure Mephisto was doing it on purpose.

“What does that even mean?” Rin bit out. “What about our parents?”

Amaimon remained on his back. Rin didn’t try to push him off. He felt better, somehow, with Amaimon close - almost artificially calm. The gleam in Mephisto’s eyes told him he hadn’t missed what Rin was feeling, either.

“What about them?” Mephisto was twirling an umbrella in his hand, rocking back on his heels like Amaimon did when he was bored. “If you have a question, Rin, you’ll need to be more specific. I wouldn’t want to explain things poorly.”

The more time he spent around Mephisto, the more obvious it became that he lived for being annoying. Rin stepped forward, ignoring Amaimon’s weight on his back, and bared his teeth. “Stop playing around! Were they human?”

One corner of Mephisto's mouth quirked up. “Your mother was.”

“And my father?” Rin prompted, an edge to his voice. Why was he even bothering to ask? He knew what they’d say. He needed to get off this roof and get away from them and get out of this situation and just... he didn't know. Get away from all this.

“He is NOT a human,” Amaimon said. In contrast to his usual monotone, he sounded almost offended, as if Rin had suggested something sacrilegious. “He’s a demon.”

“How do you know?” Rin demanded.

Amaimon opened his mouth to respond and was cut off by a sigh and a snap of fingers from Mephisto.

“I would rather not be outside for this conversation.”

The roof and sky became red walls and thick-piled carpet. Rin flinched, eyes a little wild. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time he’d been aware enough - and undistracted enough - to really notice what had happened. “What the hell?”

“Finally,” Amaimon muttered, and jumped off Rin’s back and onto the back of a striped couch. A sucker materialized, and he popped it into his mouth.

Mephisto smiled in the patronizing way that Rin was starting to associate with the urge to smash his face in. “He did say we’re demons.”

“Then why are you running a school for exorcists?” Rin countered. A noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort came from the couch, and Mephisto’s eye twitched.

“Why not?” Mephisto sat against the edge of his desk and regarded Rin calmly, the same damn smile on his face.

“Because you said you’re a demon!” Rin snapped. He felt like fire was bleeding into his skin. “At least pick a story that makes sense!”

A laugh. “Surely I, as a demon, am best-equipped to teach humans how to defend themselves against my kind. How did you think exorcism began?”

“I don’t care,” Rin said bluntly. He really didn’t.

As a kid, exorcism was just something that took his dad away on nights and weekends. Then when he got older, it took Yukio away, too - and when he had finally gotten him back, it had taken Yukio all over again. He was proud of Yukio, sure - but he’d be proud of Yukio no matter what. He’d never thought much of exorcism and he didn’t want to start now.

“You did something to me,” Rin continued. His fists were clenched for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. “What did you do to me?”

“I already told you what he did,” a bored voice rose from the couch.

“Yeah, well, your explanations suck,” Rin retorted, wheeling on him.

The sucker clicked against Amaimon’s teeth. “No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do! You didn’t explain anything!”

Amaimon tensed, preparing to lunge off the couch – and Mephisto clapped his hands together. “Back on topic.” He paused to ensure they were both listening, eyes pinning them in place. “Rin, Amaimon is correct. I released the seal - in order to protect your failing health, I might add.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that your demonic nature was hidden away at birth so that you could live as a human.” Mephisto tapped his fingers idly against the edge of the desk, watching Rin.

“Demons aren’t real.” Another irritated noise came from the couch, but Rin ignored it. “You did something to me. You made all this happen.”

Mephisto’s expression remained infuriatingly calm. “What do you think I did to you, Rin?”

His throat was still hidden by the pink scarf and Rin hated it, suddenly, with a vehemence that shocked him. He grabbed the scarf, wrenching Mephisto’s face down into biting distance. “That’s what I’m asking you!”

“And I answered you,” Mephisto said. He was still so calm, like Rin was no threat at all. “I returned you to what you are.”

Rin snarled into his face. “I’m not a demon!”

He was sick of Amaimon insisting that he was. He was sick of things happening that made him think he was right. He was sick of feeling more and more like himself with every change - and he was sick of his doubts, because despite how much he didn't want to, some part of Rin believed Amaimon.

But he couldn't accept it. His dad had told him he wasn't a demon, when he'd asked him what he was back then. 

_You are a human child._

If demons really existed and exorcists weren't playing imaginary games, his dad would have told him. 

Shiro had never lied to him. Being upset didn’t change that. Weird things happening didn’t change that. His dad had always told him the truth, even when he didn’t want to hear it. Even if he had been hiding something like Rin's conversation with Kuro had implied, he’d never lied to him.

Never.

Doubting him almost felt like a betrayal. If the old man was here he’d be hitting him over the head right now for panicking and believing Amaimon and this clown just because things happened that he couldn’t explain. 

_Think before you resort to violence. Show me you’ve grown up._

It took everything in him to release Mephisto’s scarf and step back, but Rin did it. He trusted his dad. He had to.

“I’m not a demon,” he muttered, too quiet to hear, so he repeated it a little louder. 

“No? Why do you say that?” The scarf was just a little wrinkled, but Mephisto fussed with it as if Rin had somehow irreparably damaged it. The more he was around him, the weirder Mephisto got -

\- and the weirder Rin got. Watching Mephisto adjust his scarf had Rin wanting to rip it off and shred it into so many pieces he could never put it back on again. He didn’t know why he cared. Mephisto had been wearing the scarf since they met. It looked stupid and clownish, but he was a stupid clown, so it fit.

Rin shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away, still keeping Mephisto in the corner of his eye. “I told you why. Demons aren’t real.” People just used them as an excuse, like Suguro had.

“You think your guardian and your brother dedicated their lives to protecting people from something that isn’t real?” Mephisto asked. Scarf apparently arranged to his satisfaction, he straightened from the desk and looked at Rin.

Rin avoided his gaze, staring at the door. If he wanted to avoid violence like his dad would want, he had to get out of here. He felt better, but he didn’t know how much control he had - and the more he thought about Mephisto and the damn scarf, the more unstable he felt.

“I think they help people,” Rin said at last. “What they believe is up to them.” That sounded like something Yukio would say, which put it squarely in the ‘grown-up’ column. Score one for him.

Mephisto hummed. “And you think that Mr. Suguro and all the others are simply here out of religious belief?”

Rin grit his teeth. He just had to bring him up. “What they want to do is up to them.”

“Didn’t you try to kill Mr. Suguro for doing what he wanted to do?” Mephisto strolled closer to Rin and the couch.

Rin edged away. “I wasn’t trying to…” No, that wasn’t true. He knew what he’d been trying to do, but he couldn’t make himself say he shouldn’t have done it. “He killed m… some animals, for no reason."

He knew he should feel bad for attacking Suguro, but he didn’t; he just felt bad that he didn’t feel bad, and that made him feel worse.

“He exorcised demons,” Mephisto corrected. “Because he thought they were hurting you.”

“They were scared,” Rin spat back. His voice was rising, despite his best intentions. “They weren’t hurting anyone. I told him to stop.” He could feel his nails shredding his pockets.

He knew it was wrong to react like this. Killing animals wasn’t an excuse to kill a human. It didn’t matter how many animals died or how they suffered; not even a million of them were worth one human life.

_**Anything** of mine is worth more than every human in the world._

Rin let out a shaky breath and headed for the door, hearing the couch creak as Amaimon followed behind him. He didn't want to think about this anymore. 

Mephisto didn’t say anything until Rin was halfway out the door. “Of course, what you believe is up to you,” he said, echoing Rin’s earlier words. “Although I think you’ll find it’s better to accept reality as it is when you have the opportunity. Delaying it unnecessarily will only create obstacles down the road.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amaimon’s all what was that you said about communication breaking down, Samael? :) p.s. i gave you your goddamn favor so stop interrupting us, this is like the millionth time

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
